Music of the Night
by King Alabast
Summary: "Oh ho, my luck today! Real vampires! Yes, yes, perfect test subjects. It was nice meeting you two, sincerely. Now I'm going to need you to die." Hellsing is still trying to clean up the mess Millennium left behind, but now there are more troubles; A mad-man working off Millenium's research, and a rival threatening to attack. Will Hellsing still exist by the end?
1. Grim Beginnings

The music of the piano reverberated throughout the spacious sanctuary as he gently hit the last note of the song. The parents and family of his friends stood and applauded, the clapping giving rise to a din that rang and echoed through the vaulted room. The dark cold of the night outside the church windows had no effect on the building's inhabitants, none of them wanting anything to do with the freezing weather in the first place.

The irony burned with a flame brighter than he bared to look at, considering the song he had just finished playing. Every year Ernest's band did a concert at the church, which was kind enough to lend the space to the small group. Just himself, and a tiny band of about fifteen other children, it wasn't a half bad band itself, considering they were all school aged to begin with. Even so, the size did nothing if make them more advanced, since it had significantly less troublemakers to deal with. More time devoted to actually learning to play the instrument, and not telling off the fools who wanted to inhibit everyone else's music.

Ernest stood behind the piano and smiled brightly, or at least, as brightly as he could possibly muster. Always happy, always laughing, always smiling, and yet the boy couldn't make his smiles attractive in any way. They always consisted more of one lip curling slightly upward, and the other just stretching to the side, refusing to tilt up. He had tried practicing in front of a mirror before to fix it, but to no avail. Who needed a pretty smile anyway when you had a reputation like his? Always smiling, always happy, always cheerful… Most people, until they got to know him, actually thought he was borderline insane, laughing at everything, no matter how remotely humorous it was.

Bowing in the most grand manner he could possibly perform, as he did everything with as much drama as a sixteen year old boy could possibly manage to create, and watched the audience. Faces he recognized, new ones, family of friends. People of all shapes and sizes and clothing choices. Fat and old, fat and young. Short with blonde hair, overly tall with long black hair. The latter was also dressed entirely in red… good style, and good taste. Red was the second best of all colors, right behind black, and right before purple. His mother held up her phone filming the entire song, his grandparents sitting there clapping, pretending they could actually hear the piano… It was a shame he had messed up the notes so many times. People told him he was a good piano player, people told him his singing was exemplary… Yet even after two years of the praise since he began to notice his talents, he didn't think he was any better than before. He started with playing the most difficult, advanced pieces he could find, completely skipping primary level piano teachings. It actually started with him taking a piano book from his mother's collection and demanding his piano teacher to teach him. She laughed at the prospect, but allowed to him to try. As it happened, he seemed better at the advanced pieces than he ever had on the easy ditties the adults insisted on him playing at first. Quickly mastering the entire book, he began performing the songs in public whenever he could. He glanced one last time at the song he had just finished performing.

The teen chuckled lightly to himself. '_It seems my songs keep getting darker and darker...' _The year he had begun with his small band he insisted on being given a solo to play on piano, solely for bragging purposes. After hearing him play once, his band director allowed him to. He started the first year with a nice love song, then following with a classical piece the year after, and this year with a song on the eery side. The melody was enchanting, but the lyrics were more unnverving than one would like to admit. There was nothing particularly dark about any of them at first glance, but of course in his singing Ernest had noticed quirks in the lyrics. The first year's song was a simply love song, more light than anything else in the play it originated from. The classical piece was a simple song popular to pianists, but it did have its own uncomfortable undertones. This year's song was most certainly the darkest of the three. Nothing outright disturbing, but most decidedly the most so. The music sounded akin to a lullaby, meant to trance a person to sleep, and indeed that was its use in the play it originated from. The lyrics, on the other hand, if you pay attention were more sinister than one would think. It was another love song, as anyone could expect, but it was less love of a _person_ to the love of the night. The entire song reeked of merely giving up, and letting the darkness control you, no longer even trying to avoid the uneasy feeling fear of the night would give. If a person didn't know the premise of the song, which was to lull a lady to sleep in attempts to seduce her, you would think instantly of just how screwed up the singer was.

Fear of the dark was only the most natural thing for humans.

* * *

"Ernest, that was beautiful!" Alyssa called to him. The concert was over, and the open dish dinner had begun. Down below the church in the Fellowship Hall food was set along the tables, and the people were already lined up for their fill. Alyssa, the girl in question, stopped directly in front of Ernest. The brown curls bobbed in front of her shoulders, and her bright skin inches from his own. The concept of personal space was non-existent with her, and what kind of teenage boy would he be to reject that?

"Thank you, your words are flattering, even if I know it's merely talk." Ernest smiled earnestly and chuckled. His laugh was also hideous as always, similarly to his smile. Ranging from a witches cackle to a psychopaths full hearted explosion, whenever he laughed it unnerved people. Not Alyssa, though. As everyone did, she thought his laughs were strange enough, but nothing to take away from character.

"Oh, you're too hard on yourself! It was amazing, I promise. When have I ever said something I didn't think was true?" She giggled herself, the melodious stringing of short breaths. Why couldn't he laugh as well as that? "If you messed up, no one noticed, I promise. It sounded fine."

"I'm a bass, though, and that song had two notes I couldn't hit. And they were both held out for extended periods of time! It was dreadful! Why I wasn't born a tenor, I will never be able to tell… And I messed up enough for _anyone_ to notice… I don't know if I'll ever be able to sing on stage again." He ran his hand through his black hair, short enough to be respectable, yet long enough to get ruined as soon as he woke up. And then stay like that the rest of the day because brushing hair was a waste of time. His own head recoiled at his touch. To be expected. Ernest loathed the cold with his entire being, but his hands were possibly the coldest thing he'd ever come in contact with. He could been wearing gloves on a hot summer day, and the second he removed them his touch would be enough to cool anyone down. He'd been rejected hugs from a large number of pretty girls because of this.

"Well, that was just two notes. Everything else was magnificent! Your playing was exemplary, and your voice, when you don't try to sing out of your range, is something to be envied."

"You've been talking to me too often. you're starting to use vocabulary words in your regular sentences." Ernest smiled to himself, a genuine horrific smile that only he could possibly create.

"Now is that such a bad thing, though? You love being sophisticated sounding yourself, you say so all the time."

"But what would I be with a rival sophisticated person? My entire character would be copied and reduced to nothingness! I'd cease to exist!"

"You're exaggerating."

"Just a mite. Anyway, thank you for being encouraging. Perhaps tomorrow I'll forget I made a fool of myself and go back to being the pompous bastard I am." He smiled at his own humor, but was greeted only by a frown a offended look from Alyssa.

"Ernest! You know I don't like that kind of language… Would your parents like you saying things like that?" Though thoroughly offended, her face went right back to a smile. "Do please try to refrain. Things like that don't sound… sophisticated."

"My sincerest apologies." Ernest smiled back and looked at her eyes. She had the most beautiful eyes he'd come across. A dark crimson red. '_Like the color of blood...'_ Ernest caught himself thinking. '_And the dark thoughts make a return… Perhaps my music choices have an effect on me more than I thought'_ Ernest, of course, in his mock-sophisticated life, very rarely listened to regular music. It simply didn't appeal to him like it did other people his age. Plays and shows were much more his style. He could play that stuff on piano.

"Shall we sit? I think right here we're close enough to almost block the entrance way…" he mused to his female companion.

"Oh, I thought you were standing in line! Are you not hungry?"

"Not really. Besides, this food has all been sitting here for two hours while we were playing. It's probably gone cold. What about yourself?" his eyebrow perked upward. She usually complained about how hungry she was, it was strange that in the face of a meal she would refuse.

"Eh, I was planning to grab something later tonight. So I suppose I'm not opposed to finding a table." She smiled at the boy and grabbed his hand, leading him away from the crowd of the band member's families and to a table near the back of the room. A group of the other members were also congregated there.

One short boy looked up at Ernest approaching and his eyes widened. "Watch out! The Evil Mastermind himself is approaching!" The boy then proceeded to burst into a personal fit of laughter, everyone else at the table rolling their eyes in annoyance. The kid was Alyssa's old friend from before Ernest had joined the band. He happened to have left the same year Ernest came, so they missed meeting each other then by just a short shot. It was a good thing. Dennis, the boy in question, was an especially over hyper thirteen year old, with medical problems to only boost his behavior. ADHD and the like. From the moment Dennis had heard Ernest's laugh, he'd pinned the older boy as a villain. Admittedly, Ernest didn't really mind. Villains always had cooler costumes anyway. Laughs as well.

"Hello, Dennis." Ernest replied shortly. He didn't want to say too much lest he accidentally _engage in conversation_ with the annoyance. A wretched thing to do. Worst possible idea anyone could come up with. If you talked too much, he'd start ranting and never end on topics no one knew anything, nor cared anything about.

"Wonderful playing out there, Ernie. I thought you were all talk and no show, but you managed to prove me wrong!" He laughed a chortle, loud and obnoxious enough to bother everyone at the table. "And I believe it was purely dark enough to pin you as a special kind of creep too." He held out his hand as a sign of respect, requesting Ernest to shake it.

Ernest decided it was best to play along and shook the young boy's hand. "Please, don't call me Ernie." When their hands touched Dennis's eyes actually grew wider, and he recoiled.

"Dang, your hands are cold as ice too! Are you sure you're not a vampire?" Dennis gawked rudely at the boy's pale hand. Ha. As many traits as he seemed to share with one, he was faintly sure he'd never tasted a drop of blood in his life. Unless, of course, he cut his thumb on accident whilst trying cut zip ties. Then he learned oh too well what his own blood tasted like in an effort not to make a mess, and his refusal to use coverings on wounds.

"I'm mildly sure. Vampires can't go long without drinking blood, can they? I haven't drained anyone of blood in at least two years, so I think I'm fine" Ernest curled one lip into the most maniacal smile he had (The other lip stretching far to the side), and put on his serious tone.

Dennis' smile grew only larger, and his laugh louder a the comment. "Don't miss a beat, do you? Full of _wit_."

"Who said I was joking?"

Alyssa bumped his arm in response. "I say you're joking, creep." she smiled to show her jesting and sat down. Her mouth hang open with that smile, exposing her pearly white teeth. Perfectly aligned, not a flaw to be seen, unless you saw overly large canines to be a flaw. He had onced asked about them himself, but she claimed it was genetic. Ernest had never met her parents, and even if he did it would be awkward to ask them to show him their teeth, so he took her word for it.

David took a glance around the room, seeing all the people eating and talking and having a merry time. He spotted the tall, red clad man from the audience sitting on the other side of the room. He wore tinted sunglasses, so it was hard to tell, but he could have sworn he was staring straight at him. Why was he wearing sunglasses inside to begin with? Nothing to care about, though. None of Ernest's business what other people were doing with their lives.

"Do you think you'll play again next year?" Dennis inquired. Stupid questions…

"Without fail. Alyssa's convinced me that I'm not horrible enough to quit. Perhaps make better choices on what to sing… Probably another _Phantom_ piece. It is my addiction, after all."

The man on the other side of the room stood and stretched. He wore an intricate black shirt, covered mostly by an equally intricate red overcoat. Red pants and a red fedora completed his wardrobe other than his gloves, which were a solid white. Ernest watched with interest as he started walking closer. What did a strange man have to do at a table full of children anyway? Putting himself on alert, Ernest took his gaze away. Perhaps he wasn't approaching them at all, simply maneuvering to a different area.

Nope.

He reached the table in exactly five strides, and stood smiling directly behind Dennis. "I would say I hope I'm not intruding on anything, but quite honestly I couldn't care less." He smiled a grim smirk and looked at each of them in turn. He pointed at Alyssa after a moment, lazily lifting his arm until it was fully outstretched. "You're coming with me. Unless you want to fight in here, which I'm not entirely against." His smile grew only wider as he spoke, never giving away the creepy atmosphere he managed to hold up.

Alyssa's eyes widened. "What? I don't even know who you are! I'm not coming with you, and certainly not fighting with you! What are you, a psychopath?!"

A woman walked up and stood behind Alyssa herself. Her hair was a light blonde, and her body largely curved. She wore nothing as extravagant as the Red Clad Man, but was instead dressed in jeans and an uncomfortable looking buttoned shirt. Her eyes, Ernest noted, were just as red as Alyssa's own. "Well, you're not too far off. I'll let Master explain, though." She smiled, her voice high, and fitting for her body.

The Red Man's smile still held firm. "The Hellsing Organization calls for your extermination, and I'm simply here to follow out orders."

Alyssa's face grew from surprised and insulted to fearful and full of terror. "Hellsing? I don't know what you're talking about! What is it, some secret government organization? Is this Black Ops stuff? What are you going on about?!"

"You're going to make me fire my gun in here, aren't you?"

"Oi! What's this about guns and fighting?! Back off, creeps!" Ernest had no idea what was going on, but he sure as hell wouldn't let some creeps shoot his friend to death!

The Blonde looked at him and smiled cheerfully, as if blissfully unaware she was terrorizing everyone at the table. "Oh it's you! Your playing was beautiful, I promise. I overheard you talking yourself down a few minutes ago."

"Seras, this is no time for that. We're here on a job."

"Sorry, Master…"

The Red Man's smile faltered and changed into a frustrated frown. "My own master won't like it if I end up killing humans. I'd prefer not to have to do this in here."

Alyssa looked as if the answer had dawned on her like a crashing boulder. Whatever she had just realized, it wasn't good. "Killing humans? Yet you're threatening to kill _me?_ Do I not look human to you?"

"No. Your eyes give you away, little Draculina. Not to mention your smell."

Her eyes grew from astounded to angered. "Now you've gone and done it. I thought I was being such a good girl too…" Alyssa paused for a moment, concentrating.

Then all hell broke loose.

Alyssa dashed out of her seat and began to run.

"Seras." The blonde nodded, and less than half a second later the sound of a gun exploded throughout the dining hall. Ernest watched Alyssa get hit smack in the back by the bullet and fall to her face on the ground.

"You missed."

Ernest looked back at the town assailants, both wearing completely indifferent expressions as to what just happened. He was silent for a moment, completely frozen in astonishment at the events that had just unfolded. "What the HELL do you think you're doing?!" He jumped out of his seat, letting all his primal rage run free at the Red Clad Man. His small adrenaline rush was short lived as he was punched away mid-tackle, a white gloved fist hurling itself into his gut. He started to glide away, literally floating in mid air for a moment before his back slammed into the far concrete wall. All air was completely knocked out of him when he hit the wall. Pain like he'd never felt in his entire life. It bolted through his body, covering his entire being. Everything hurt, from his legs to the back of his head, where he felt the trickle of warm blood flowing… He had really been hit that hard. _ACK!_ Blood flew from his mouth when he coughed, his insides bleeding just as badly as his outsides.

"Alucard! That was too harsh for a mortal! You could have killed him!" the Blonde complained.

"Better to leave him damaged than have him interfering in affairs his human mind couldn't comprehend."

Ernest watched them talking, completely dazed from the hit. He tried to move his arms, but he couldn't figure out how… all motor control was lost. The blonde continued to complain to the Red Man, continuing to address him as Master. What were these freaks doing? First they show up and shoot one of his closest friends dead, then Red injures himself?! Who did they think they were with all this?!

He felt a hand on his chest, and another on his had suddenly. He tried to look to his side to see who was touching him, but he still couldn't gain full control. At least someone was trying to help him… "Hey, Ernest," Alyssa's voice whispered in his ear. Wait! How was that possible?! He watched her die! "Thanks for being a good friend, it meant a lot. Now I just need one more thing from you to regain some energy. I am starving, you know…" and with that David felt two sharp needles enter his neck. What was going on?! What was she doing?! If she needed his help, what was she doing with his neck?! And then the sucking began…

He could feel the blood drain from his body, being pulled from his veins and out of his body. The warmth of a mouth against his neck… Or at least, he thought it felt like a mouth. Ernest had never been so lucky as to even kiss someone before, so how was he to really know… He felt himself grow weaker and weaker as he felt himself become drained. The warmth of his own body left him, he could feel everything (except his hands…) starting to grow colder, the loss of the fluid taking its toll.

"Master!"

_BANG!_

Another gun fire, and the warmth left his left. Ernest closed his eyes, too weak even to keep them open at that point He could hear the scuffling of feet, and the frantic rushing of people running about in the chaos. No doubt the adults and other children were terrified at the scenario.

And consciousness was gone.

* * *

**So endeth chapter one. Please leave a review, I love hearing from my readers!**

**Adieu.**


	2. Welcome to Hellsing

"I know that look. That's your 'what's the best way to kill this guy?' look."

"Well, Seras, it could very possibly come down to just that."

"But it's not like he needs to relish it like he does…"

Ernest's senses were slow coming back to him. It seemed his previous state of being unable to control his body still stood firm. Try as he might, his eyes remained just as securely shut as they'd been seconds before. All he could hear were the sound of voices, apparently discussing grim details about something he couldn't quite grasp. Under him he could feel the ground: Hard and cold, though feintly soft. A worn carpet, perhaps?

"You just let Alucard dance around in his bloody day dreams and worry about yourself right now." The voice was that of a raspy woman's, probably on the older side.

Ernest tried moving his fingers again. His movement was just out of his reach, like he was leaning over the edge of a counter trying to reach the back… a really really large counter at that. Just a little further… almost… almost…

"It seems our visitor is awake." A low voice of a very masculine man, obvious without the need for sight. So familiar, yet so strange to hear…

"Is he?" The old woman.

"I think I saw his finger twitch a moment ago, but does that really count as awake?" the third voice, soft and sweet, obviously feminine.

Got it! Ernest half regained control of his own body, able to clench his hand in and out. Now just to work at the eyelids…

"See! There he goes again! Maybe he is awake…"

The sound of footsteps got closer, muffled by the carpet, but still noticeable. Ernest heard them stop just next to him. Was someone doing something to him?

_SMACK!_

Ernest felt his body slump to the side for a moment before his eyes shot open with a jolt. He'd just been slapped! What kind of person just goes up and slaps people peacefully knocked out on the ground?! He took a look at the three people who were talking before he woke. A woman, just shorter then himself. Dressed in a tan police uniform, with an insignia he didn't recognise on the shoulder. Her hair was blonde, and draped along the back of her head until it spiked out about shoulder length. Another woman standing beside her was obviously much older. She looked to be in her mid fifties at least, light grey hair falling down her back. She wore a stern expression, and large glasses over her eyes. Well, eye. The lady wore a large eyepatch over her left eye. A comically large cigar hung out of her mouth at an angle, almost a wonder she didn't just drop it from shear size. Finally the third occupant was a tall man, dressed entirely in a red suit and white gloves. His black hair looked to be tucked up under his red fedora, and he wore tinted orange sunglasses over his eyes. His face still had a faintly insane grin, both lips curled upward.

Why couldn't Ernest smile like that?

The older woman's face turned from a silent glare to a smug smile. "Good to see someone's decided it's time to wake up. Welcome to Hellsing." Her raspy voice must have been caused by those cigars… If she's been smoking monsters like those for her entire life…

Wait. He knew the other two! "What's going on?! Where am I?!" What was he doing in a room with a couple of psychopaths?! And how had he gotten to wherever he was? Last he remembered he'd been bleeding to death on the floor of a church… more irony. Delightful. The Man in Red had punched him to the side so hard he'd almost died; or at least felt like he was about to. And that woman… She'd shot Alyssa in the back!

The older woman laughed smugly in response. She seemed to take amusement out of his confusion. "This is the Hellsing Mansion. We had to bring you here for containment issues. Seras here managed to convince Alucard not to just kill you on the spot." She gestured to the woman and man in turn. He took it safe to assume that's who they were. "My name is Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, and leader of the Royal Order of Religious Knights."

Ernest nodded his head up and down slowly. He didn't comprehend anything she had just said. What was Hellsing? Why would they bring _him_ there in the first place? "I don't get it. Why did those two just show up at my concert, shoot my friend to death, and then carry me off with them?! What the hell is going on here?!" He demanded answers. It was plainly obvious they… probably wouldn't touch him. If they wanted him dead they'd have done it while he was still out cold. Obviously he hadn't been killed or he wouldn't have woke up.

The lady's smile seemed to grow larger, like she knew something he didn't. She did. "Your 'friend' was a monster we had to get rid of. She was a danger to humans and the entire protestant religion."

Alyssa a danger to people? The _entire_ protestant religion? What nonsense was this old lady spouting! Alyssa would never hurt anyone. He'd known her long enough to know that, at least. "I don't understand. What's going on here?"

The tall man, Alucard, spoke up in answer. "She was a vampire, and therefore had to be gotten rid of." His voice was tainted with more than a little malice. His smile still retained, though. The only person who didn't seem to find the situation any more humorous than Ernest did was the blonde, Seras.

"That's it! You're all kooks!" Ernest wailed lifting his hands above his head, "I've been captured, and being held hostage by psychopaths… Delightful, truly delightful… When I prayed for my life to be more interesting, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Oh, so you don't believe in vampires, then? It's a funny coincidence, then. Vampires are very real, we simply don't tell you about them." Sir Integra left out a puff of smoke while she talked. For a moment Ernest watched it dissipate before being pulled back into reality. How distracting smoke could be…

"You're insane! What do you even do?! Go around killing people all over England under the guise of hunting vampires?!"

"Exactly. Only it's not a guise. It's completely legitimate. What do you think would happen if we just let the general public know about their existence? There would be frenzies! Nervous neighbors attacking each other out of suspicion and fear! Not really an ideal world, don't you think? No. Much better to let them sit in sweet ignorance and exterminate them in secret."

Ernest didn't move for a moment. He was still trying to pull everything into focus. Even if he was awake, nothing made any sense. Was he dreaming? Yes… that was it. All this was a delightfully fake, wonderfully nonexistent, graciously terrifying nightmare. "Okay. Okay okay okay. So let's suppose you're not insane,, and vampires do exist. You're suggesting one of my best friends was a vampire. Right under my nose?"

Integra's smile faded slightly. It looked as if she was losing her patience. "Exactly. And she was. A nasty annoying one too. You should be thankful she didn't turn you until my operatives were there to watch. Otherwise you might be more dead than you already are."

…

What?

Ernest's gaze fell off of Integra, and instead straight past her to the blonde woman. Red eyes, just like Alyssa's. Perfectly the same, not a fault to be seen. '_Like the color of blood...'_

"More dead than I already am…" That was something he'd never thought he'd hear. "Oh my, it seems I'm being held by crazier people than I originally thought… Delightful. Simply delightful." So they thought he was already dead? What kind of lunacy was circulating in there?! Was someone burning something intoxicating?

"Yes. I can see you're having a hard time comprehending what I mean. Denial is okay, but people don't usually deny what they plainly felt happen."

Alyssa's voice in his ear… But he watched her die. A bullet hole that big… it's not possible anyone could have survived a hit like that. Right in the spine as well. Yet he distinctly remembered before passing out, her voice whispering in his ear. And then another gun shot. The moistness on his neck, the feeling of needles. the sucking… no, it couldn't possibly be what they were saying! Vampires didn't exist, and that was the end of it!

"Vampires… don't exist. It's impossible! you're crazy!"

He watched Seras put her hand to her mouth, trying to cover a chuckle.

Ernest snapped in anger. "What the hell is so funny?!"

The small bit of color that was in her pale face seemed to leave when he barked at her. "Sorry, it's just funny…"

"What is?!"

"The fact that you don't believe in yourself." She started giggling again, her melodious voice ringing. At least he was detained by kooks with good voices. Ernest bet she could sing well too.

"Delightful… delightful… So you'll have me believe that vampires exist. And that _I'm_ one of them. Last I checked I ate chicken and fries, not blood."

Integra's smirk returned full force at that. "Well, when you'd been out cold for two days, you don't have much time to check. I guess you need further proof than simply my word, then?"

Ernest stared at her a moment. "Two days? I've been asleep for two days? Really" He was always a late sleeper, but he'd never screwed up quite that much… Close, but not quite.

"Yes, two days. And you've been slumped on that floor for the majority of it. Alucard dropped you there, and he couldn't seem to find the resolution to put in a more respectable place."

The red clad Alucard smirked in response to the memory. He seemed to enjoy Ernest's suffering.

"I still don't buy it. I don't know what you people have been smoking, but you're spouting nonsense! The lot of you!"

"Alucard." Integra said gently.

"Yes, My Master." he walked towards Ernest on the ground, his long legs reaching the boy in exactly one and a half strides. The boy's eyes widened as the man came closer, that insane smirk still glowing on his face. His eyes were impossible to read under his sunglasses, but undoubtedly it was an expression Ernest had no want to be a part of. He cowered away and crawled backward as fast as he could, but to no avail, Alucard reaching him without any effort on his part. He grabbed the boy's shoulder with a grip impossible for any human to muster, and lifted the boy off the ground.

"Hey now, what are you doi-" _ACK!_ Alucard's arm entered Ernest's body, snapping forward enough to break straight through his stomach and out of his back. Blood spilling everywhere, pouring all over his clothes, and the suit of Alucard. Pain flowed like a monster throughout his entire body as the long arm turned and ripped more of his flesh. More blood draining from his body, Ernest was amazed he could still see clearly, or be alive at that matter.

After what seemed like an eternity in Hell, Alucard removed his hand from Ernest's body, dropping him like a useless rag. Ernest gasped for air and writhed in pain on the ground, everything searing.

"Oh stop blubbering, you're fine." Integra said calmly. She didn't look alarmed in the slightest, her smug smirk retaining its valour. Did she enjoy watching teenage boys scream in pain?

Ernest's rage grew at the comment, and losing thought of his impaled stomach he stood on his own and shouted. "Do I look freaking fine to you?!"

"Yes."

The response caught Ernest off guard and his mind went back to his stomach. His stomach, where the worst pain seemed on to be the fact he hadn't eaten in two days. He glanced down to find nothing wrong with himself. His clothes, though fully regenerated on his body, were still covered in blood, yet there was no wound. Everything on him was as perfectly healthy as before. He looked back up at the aged woman. "You've sucked me into your delusions."

"Delusions are for the insane and the ignorant. I've done nothing but enlighten you to the real world."

Ernest slid his back against the wall, finding himself back on the ground. Stunned, he only had one thought running through his head. '_I died… I really died…'_ He moved his look to despair at Seras. "Where's Alyssa? Did you really kill her?"

The blonde woman shifted uncomfortably at the question. "Well, yes. I'm sorry if she was important to you, but it is my job, after all…" her face perked again. "I convinced Master not to kill you, though."

Ernest caught on to what she was saying instantly. "So this is a group of vampire hunters. If I-... if I'm a vampire, why don't you go ahead and kill me? If I'm so much of a threat to 'people and the entire protestant religion'?"

Integra's face turned stony, her all knowing smirk vanishing without a trace of it being there before. "We're keeping you alive for now. Since you were turned in the middle of an operation, Seras thought it would be a good idea to bring you here and keep an eye on you. Alucard wanted to shoot you and save the trouble, but Seras eventually won out. We don't kill all vampires, only the ones who don't submit to us. So yes, we have killed every vampire we've come across except the people you see standing in this room."

In this room? "Wait, so you're all vampires?" That would explain Alucard's strength and sadism to an extent, at least…

"Well, I'm not. Alucard was captured and sealed to my family, so he's trapped servin me and the Hellsing line until it runs out. Seras is his fledgling. You're merely a wild card, and the only reason you're still alive is because Seras hasn't lost all of her humanity yet. I can't advise making her regret the choice."

Seras perked again and waved brightly from across the room. Her eyes were closed in glee as she spoke. "As long as you promise to play for me every once in a while, I don't think I will."

Integra's eyebrow rose in response to the comment and she turned to Seras. "Play?"

The blonde girl's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh! I didn't mention! He's excellent at piano from what I've seen."

"A very nice talent to be sure, but not a particularly useful one at all. Your name was Ernest, correct?" he nodded. "The only reason I haven't chosen to side with Alucard on this is because I think you might be useful. Since Walter… Regrettably passed on, we've been in need of new hands anyway. If you don't make yourself useful, I'm not such a sentimental person to hesitate in shooting you down myself."

Ernest tensed at the prospect. Was every single person in the building a sadist? The only one who seemed even slightly decent was Seras, but even she had an air of uneasiness. Perhaps it was the whole vampire deal… "W-well, I guess that wouldn't be too terribly hard. I do rather prefer being useful to dying, so I'll try my best."

Integra nodded, smirk returning. "That's what I thought." She turned to look at the blonde girl behind her. "Seras, if you could guide our new member to his chambers." turning to Alucard. "Do try to tolerate his existence for now. Please refrain from having too much 'fun'." And finally she turned back to Ernest. "Welcome to Hellsing."

* * *

Seras was quick to give a tour of the entire building. The Hellsing mansion was nothing if not huge, confusing, and dark. Windows seemed to be a concept lost to the Hellsing family. Mainly Ernest paid attention for the sole fear of becoming so lost in the twisting hallways he'd starve to death before someone found him. Finally the two reached a doorway in the basement that they stopped at. The hallway it was located was long and dark, tinted a dark green from years of mildew and abuse. A regular hinge doorway, made completely of steel stood in front o them.

"I believe this is where Sir Integra wanted you placed. It's not too far from either mine, or Alucard's rooms, though, so if you need either one of us, just hollar." Seras beamed at Ernest in the most optimistic way the boy thought he'd ever seen. If he'd ever thought vampires were the dark, brooding, self-pitying type, he'd been dead wrong. He'd never quite met a person so… lively.

"Well, thank you… Seras, was it?" she nodded. "I guess I'll just have to get used to all this on my own. A lot to take in for just one day." He scratched the back of his head and put his hand on the door handle, swinging it back to reveal his new 'home'. A small, cramped room, equally dark with the hallway, and just as green. To one side of the room sat a decently sized bed, by the looks of it a canopy. The other wall blocked by a dresser. There was nothing on it, and he doubted there was anything interesting in it, so walking in he neglected to pay it much mind.

"I wouldn't get too caught up in the atmosphere. None of the other rooms down here are any better. You get used to it eventually, or at least I have. Though admittedly I've had thirty-odd years to, so it's no surprise." the blonde mused. Ernest looked her over quizzically. She couldn't have possibly been more than twenty or twenty-two. Thirty-odd years? Vampirism must really stop aging then…

Seras face turned to worry as she watched Ernest. "Your face. It just went whiter than it was before."

"I just had a horrible realization." He responded.

"What?"

"I'm going to be a sixteen year old boy forever. I'm going to have acne forever." He sat on his bed devastated. "I would have been fine with this whole 'never aging' thing in a few years, but seriously… Can you think of a worse body to be stuck in forever?"

"You could've been turned at ten. Then you'd have the eternal attitude of a child, and the inability to leave the house without people calling the police for a runaway child." she supplied.

Ernest looked up at her, feeling slightly better. "You know just what to say at all given times, don't you?"

She tilted her head. "Master says the opposite usually. He says I'm annoying most of the time. I suppose I can entertain him enough, though, considering he keeps me so close."

Ernest mused a moment. "What's with all the titles around here? You call Alucard 'Master' and he does the same to Integra. Why is that? It couldn't possibly be a situation of that's how you refer to the higher ups, because you haven't called Integra 'Master' a single time, and it seems she's obviously in charge."

"You pick up on things quick, don't you?" she smiled. "Well, Master is sealed to Integra's family, so he has to. Though he generally respects her because he thinks highly of her, so he does it willingly with her than any of his previous masters, from what he's told me. Which still isn't much, I guess, Master loves his secrets." she giggled to herself, as if enjoying some inside joke. "And Master sired me, so it's kind of like a blood binding in itself, except I can get out of it without Master dying."

"Sired you? Don't tell me there's someone in this place I'm just going to start calling 'Master' out of obligation…"

"Obligation? Haha! I don't have to, it just rolls off the tongue better than anything else. I could call Master by his name if I tried, but why would I want to? And no, the vampire who sired you is long gone, so you're kind of… rogue, I guess." Seras stopped and considered a minute. "I'm sure Master would have no objections to training you as well, though."

"Really? He seemed more intent on simply shooting me in the face earlier." Ernest stiffened as he thought about it.

"Oh, he does that to everyone. He'll lighten up eventually. Just try not to make him angry."

"I'd imagine." Ernest stood and stretched, reaching his arms above his head. "Does my family know about this? I mean, the whole vampire thing? I can't just leave without letting them know why. They'd be terrified."

"Oh yes, Sir Integra thought of that. Your official date of death was yesterday." Seras replied matter-o-factly.

Ernest paused. Date of death? "Wait. You told my parents I died and carried me off here?! They're mourning for sure! Oh how could I bring this on them…"

"Better they think you're dead than undead, anyway. They'll never get over your death, but they won't go searching at least. It's better this way." She sat down beside the boy and put her hand on his back.

He sat and sulked for a moment. If his family thought he was dead, he couldn't exactly drop in and see them every once in a while. He'd have to just leave them completely… "I'm curious to know how you pulled it off, though. I don't think being carried off by the psychopaths who shot up a church is a good way to leave."

"Oh, we'd never do that! Much too messy. Alucard and I just left. Hellsing intercepted your parents call to the funeral home and picked up you comatose body to bring here. Of course, even if you were just in a coma, all your bodily functions stopped when you turned, so they really did think you were dead. It was a convincing thing. Your funeral is tomorrow."

"Words I never thought I'd live to hear." Ernest replied. "Is there a piano in this building at all? I find playing relieves stress."

Seras stood quickly. "I think there was one somewhere upstairs, but it's never used. No one here can play, certainly not as well as you. In our line of work instrument playing doesn't have much use anyway. Shooting a gun is a much more practical skill. I could show you up there, if you'd like." Ernest nodded in agreement.

"If you would." Perhaps he'd have a bit more time to think things over while he played. Always a calming thing to be able to play to your heart's desire. Becoming a vampire probably hadn't helped his musical tastes either, he mused. Seras led him through the dark hallways back up to ground level. After a bit of searching they managed to locate the room she had in mind. It was a large banquet hall by the looks of it. Not a speck of dust could be seen, yet Ernest had a feeling it hadn't been used a long while. Servant work, he supposed, kept the place clean nonetheless. Tables littered the floor, the circular fixtures placed seemingly randomly about. The piano was on the far side, a grand piano open and ready to play.

"Not bad, no bad. All you could expect from a mansion, I suppose." Ernest remarked as he strolled to the instrument. "There aren't any piano books over here… I suppose i'm limited to my memory, then."

"I'm sure we can find you a few somewhere or other. With how you sounded a few days ago it might be worth the trip." Seras replied.

He looked at her incredulously. "You really do enjoy my playing, don't you. I've been patronized plenty, yet no one has made quite so much a deal of it as you have."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. If someone were to patronize you they have no ear for music. You could play anything, really. What do you have memorized?"

"Not much. I made it a habit of memorizing as many pieces as I could, but I'm still hung up at three. Of course, what I played at the concert and a few other Broadway songs. Nothing people usually ask to hear, at least." he waved his hand dismissively. Honestly, if she wasn't there he'd have played anything regardless of being able to play it from memory well. It was the simple matter that he was being watched, and therefore had to be careful about making a fool of himself that held him back.

"Just play one of those then. I don't really mind what it is." another beaming grin from the vampire and Ernest sat down at the bench. He tested one key slowly. The sound rang out fluidly, completely in tune even though it hadn't been touched in so long. "Not bad…" He paused, hands hovering over the keys for a moment. He did know a fast paced song he enjoyed playing at times. "Do you mind if I sing?"

"Not at all." Ernest smiled thankfully, and with that the keys drummed lightly, the dark, odious tune of the song ringing throughout the large room.

Seras sat down on the bench beside him, as Ernest had the quirky habit of always sitting to one side, and placing his books to the other. The center of the piano bench was uncomfortable for no apparent reason to him. She watched his fingers slide up and down the piano, keeping up with the song's quick pace. She seemed amazed at how fast he was able to move his hands without messing up too much in that song. Haha. If only she was aware that was the easiest song in the play…

About the third verse the door of the hall opened again, a person about Ernest's size walking towards them, light grey hair inhabiting their head. Sir Integra stopped beside him and watched his hands for a moment. She didn't seem near as impressed, keeping a straight face the entire time, and a bored look in her eyes.

Ernest hastened to finish the song and get to whatever Integra needed. If there was one thing he could call more annoying than anything else it was being interrupted in the middle of a song. He reached the final stanza of the song, a long collection of 'ah' as the Phantom critiqued the female's voice. At length it was done. Holding the final note out for a moment he raised his fingers and looked up at Integra, whose features had not changed.

"It was sloppy in places. With your enhanced hand eye coordination I believe you'd be better, but I guess it hasn't fully arisen in you yet. All that will come with time, I suppose. Anyway, I'm not here for mediocre playing." Ernest probably would have shot up a glare of annoyance, but decided it was probably a bad idea to insult the person who was keeping him alive. Seras just stared in confusion, obviously not having thoughts near as mean as Ernest.

"I forgot to mention earlier, since you're officially dead according to the media, it's probably wise for you to choose a new name for yourself. I thought I would at least let you pick. If you need time, you have until tomorrow night. I have to file a report to the Round Table because of this, so I need the information."

Ernest thought a moment, considering the choices. Nothing flashy or eccentric. he'd probably regret that later. No need to sound ridiculous, as he was sure to be as sloppy on the battlefield as his playing. Just something nice and half-normal. Something that rolls off his tongue… "How about Henry Alabast?"

Integra looked at him for a moment, one lip curling upward (The other staying straight, though not stretching to the side.) in a smirk. "That was quick. And if I may ask, what does Alabast mean? Isn't that vase decoration?"

"That's alabaster. The best way to describe Alabast is Alabast. Your guess as to what it is is as good as mine."

Integra's smile faded. "Alabast is Alabast. Somehow I feel you're going to be more of an annoyance than you're worth…"

"I'll try my best not to be, promise."

"You'd better, Henry."

* * *

**Thanks for the support, everyone! I post a horrible chapter at ten at night, and wake up to a follow, favorite, and review? Thank you, you ahve made my life!**

**Anyway, leave a review as you feel you should. I enjoy all criticizing, be it long winded scrutinizing or a short one line "I love it!". I love all my readers dearly, and I appreciate your advice!**

**Adieu!**


	3. A Mite of Death

The first day of Hellsing life was simple. Clear up the last few rules, limits, and tidy up your mind for where everything is located.

The rest of the week was hell.

"Um… you're getting better, I think. That one only missed by a little." Seras stood next to Ernest, a rifle in his arms, and face contorted in frustration. His face was beet red from strain on his body. Alucard insisted that he wake up before dusk to start training, and then going to the outside shooting range for practice. Eager to impress his new employers, Ernest followed to order without hesitation. He had remembered from the night before where the range was, so it was easy to find. The pain first started the moment he stepped outside. The sun had not yet set, and the feeling set the boy's pale skin aflame. Fire licked at his toes and fingers, and burnt his face almost immediately. Thankfully, since the ball of flame was already halfway set it wasn't a full blast.

Hopping back in anguish, Ernest glared at the grass outside. He was beaten by light. How pitiful was he? It was whilst pitying himself, and contemplating the best way of reaching the shooting range on time, Alucard was not hesitant to offer his two cents on the matter. Of course, Alucard's two cents mostly consisted of laughing his head off, the psychotic bellowing almost ceaseless. "Come now!" he said between his guttural cries. "You're going to let a simple sun beat you senseless?" the red clad vampire stepped outside without hesitation, both lips curled in malice. "This small sting? Ha! This is nothing worse than a mere bee sting!" and with that he walked his own merry way over the long field, undaunted by the ruthless light, and pulled out his own gun.

The pistol Alucard held was larger than anything Ernest had seen before. The handle was so thick Ernest knew his small fingers wouldn't be able to even reach the trigger, Alucard's long hands being so much longer than his own. The barrel of the gun appeared horribly off balance, too large and long to possibly be a single handed gun. Nonetheless, the elder vampire shot it with ease, blowing the entire body apart of the furthest target. Damned show off.

With one last smirk in Ernest' direction, Alucard stalked away slowly back to the mansion, phasing through the wall and back inside. Ernest had to restrain himself from getting too angry about it. The last thing he needed was a reason for the man to shoot him with his gun.

He returned instead to the task at hand, which was reaching the range before the sun set. The whole "Sun burns" problem was turning out as more of an annoyance than originally expected. Were all these things about vampires true? Garlic even? Ernest just had a gut feeling he should never visit Italy. Looking out to the shooting range again, Ernest considered hi choices, which weren't many. He could wait until sundown, but that would go against orders, which were to be out there before dusk. Probably the best plan was to suck it up and make a dash. Where you actually stood to shoot was covered so if he could just reach there…

"Hey Ernest!" he turned at the voice and found Seras walking quickly towards him. Her red eyes shone brightly against the shadows, gleaming with blood lust. If Ernest hadn't figured out just how peppy the girl was, he would probably be terrified. As it happened, vampire's eyes were _always_ filled with blood lust.

"Oh. evening, Seras." he called. She began to jog the rest of the way, reaching the boy in seconds. Radiating from her was nothing but joy. Someone had woken up well. Or she was always like that. Probably the latter.

"You look distressed. Having trouble with something?" she inquired, smile fading slightly. Her gloved hands were held together behind her back innocently. Adorable.

Ernest turned around and looked back over the field. "Aye. I can't figure out how to get over to the range without hurting myself. I was ordered to be out there by now…" The best plan still seemed to fall to making a dash for it.

Seras walked up beside the boy and looked straight at the sun, mere minutes from disappearing completely. Ernest glanced at her face and found it strewn with confusion. "Who said that to you? Usually Integra doesn't have set times for training. For us vampires, at least. As long as we get it done she's fine."

"Integra didn't say anything about it. Alucard gave the order. I thought it best not to cross him." Talking to Seras at least gave him an excuse to procrastinate…

Seras turned her head to face the boy, a look of puzzlement staring at him. It wasn't long before the confusion fell the realization, and the realization turned to a humored laughter. "Haha!"

Ernest glared. "What's so funny?"

"You'll learn in time when to take Alucard seriously, and when not to. Mind you, most of the time you should take him seriously, and just know if you ask questions he'll kill you. He knows perfectly well at this stage in the transformation your pain tolerance is at a minimum… for vampires, at least. Anyway, there's no reason to be out before the sun sets for you. Leave that to him. Heck, not even I can take the pain for too long." she continued to giggle to herself.

Ernest, on the other hand, fumed with irritation. Alucard was surely a psychotic madman, but petty humor was surely beyond him. Perhaps the man had more folds than originally assumed. "Well then, I suppose I'm stuck here for the next few minutes." He sighed, anger leaving him. He looked at the sun as it set. The warmth of the sun was always a welcome pleasure before. It felt pleasant on walks, lit the way for everything, kept the circle of life spinning. Now he was a creature of the night. Dead. The sun, full of life and warmth, was no longer a welcome thing.

'_At least I'm not colder than I was before. My hands were freezing then, and now I'm dead it's nothing but natural.'_ At the thought he instinctively put his hands together. as expected from years of experience, they froze each other at their own touch. It actually kind of hurt. he chuckled lightly and shook his head.

"Hmm?" Seras hummed a short questioning noise. Her eyes reflected her interest at Ernest's apparent ability to laugh at nothing.

"What? Oh! Sorry. I was just thinking to myself. Cold hands." He smiled his own crooked smile and looked over the field. More than halfway gone. Soon the sun would be out of sight and practice would begin. "What's it really like?"

"What?"

"What's it like? Being dead and all, I mean. I ought to be prepared, since I guess… I guess I am now." He hadn't actually thought about it that way before. He was actually dead. His life he knew before… it didn't exist any longer. None of his friends… none of his family… no one was even allowed to know his soul was even still in the world.

Though, the perks were… decent. His regenerative abilities allowed him to be hit harder. Probably more endurance if he tried. Strength to boot. And hand eye coordination for piano playing? Perfect! Perhaps with a little practice he'd be able to phase through things like Alucard…

But the cons. The sun was a no-go. He'd never be able to step into the light of day again. The darkness was the only ally to him now… darkness and death alone. Silver was deadly. Probably a good thing people didn't usually use actual silver for their eating utensils anymore, or a person would be able to kill him with a spoon. And Garlic. No Italy. Ever. Running water was probably a bad move as well.

How many problems did a vampire have? Seriously?

"Well, I guess it's not all that bad. It's not generally welcome, though. Even in my case I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. It's nice, for us. Sure, no light, no life, and we have to hide from humanity, but we have extra powers. Heh. Yeah, a power hungry vampire is a happy vampires, when it comes down to it." she giggled softly to herself. "Though in my experience so called happy vampires are the easiest to kill."

Ernest looked her over slowly. "Does it ever bother you, though? The cold, the darkness? If I weren't doomed to it myself, I'd imagine I'd hate the prospect."

"Well, maybe a little. I missed the sun at first, but Master helped me through it, in his own way. He just said I was clinging to my humanity, and it would come to pass. He trained me to get stronger, and control my own powers. How to use them correctly and all that. After a while your want for life just kind of… dies itself, I guess." The girl's eyes had become slightly sullen. How they'd been bright and cheery moments before, the short talk had changed it. Nostalgia, perhaps? "Anyway, it's not all that bad. You get used to having to kill to survive, and the fear from everyone who knows your secret. Besides, with Hellsing at our sides we can't really want much more. We do as the humans say, and we're treated well in return."

Ernest thought it over a moment. Another thing that hadn't occurred to him. The killing to stay alive… he wasn't just dead, he had to kill people to avoid becoming permanently dead. He wasn't sure if his stomach could handle that… "Like a dog…"

Seras turned her gaze to him. "Almost. A dog is a good analogy, though. It's not all that bad. I used to have a friend in the orphanage I grew up in. She said before her mother went crazy and she had to be collected by the government for her own protection her aunt had a dog. The rest of her family swore if they died, they wanted to be reincarnated as that lady's dog. There wasn't a living thing in this world more spoiled than that cocker spaniel, I swear." Her bright attitude seemed to flood back with the memory. She laughed to herself in her usual cheery manner.

The sun had completely disappeared. The time for conversation was over, and the time for work had begun. "Well, I suppose it's about time I get over there. Training to do, avoiding getting my head shot off by Integra to accomplish… better impress I guess."

"Nonsense. Integra would never shoot you!" Seras almost looked insulted.

"No? Why is that?"

"She'd tell Alucard to do it."she said matter of factly.

"Gee, that makes me feel loads better. Anyway, I'm trying to avoid that too. When he's around everything tends to drop ten degrees, and I think I should be on guard for an arm through to stomach." He chuckled and walked slowly towards the shooting range. '_I wonder...'_ a thought occurred to him.

Instead of merely walking, he began to dash as fast as his legs would carry him. He had never been athletic. Not in the slightest. Getting tackled on a field was never enticing, kicking a ball around was pointless, running was… running was just hard. Now he'd been enlisted in a vampire fighting organization, it went without saying he would probably have to fix that, and fast. Seeing just how much of a boost his powers gave him was step one. It seemed he couldn't even see where he was going. The grass, dark and soft under his feet, slid by without so much time as to process the shape it had. He might've been running on green construction paper for all he could see as far as detail went.

Naturally, he reached the rage in a matter of seconds. He stopped carefully, trying not to run into a wall, and knelt down. Even with a boost of vampire powers, he was still easily winded. It would take a while to get used to working out… this was _hard._

"Was that as fast as you could go?" Seras' feminine voice rang out from beside him, her tone reflecting without so much as looking that she wore a friendly smirk. "Pitiful! And that winded you too? Boy, you have a long way to go before you're a full nosferatu."

He huffed and tried to answer between breaths. "And…you can talk… miss fledgling…" He was actually pained more than he thought he would be. That was just a short sprint, after all. Nothing he couldn't have done alive… perhaps it was his speed.

"Hey now, I'm close. Alucard says he'll release me when I'm ready, and I've been working at it for thirty-odd years now. I'm close." She bent her legs so her face could reach his level as he knelt. Her smirk was nothing if not merely teasing, not cruel like Alucard's. "You, on the other hand, have years of training to go through. You can barely even call yourself a vampire yet. You haven't had the chance to drink from anyone, and so your powers are at their most pitiful phase. As soon as you get some blood in you that should change a bit. You'll still be unable to get even close to Alucard, though. He's as close to immortal as it gets."

Ernest half seriously shot a look of irritation at her. "I think I could surpass you in a year's time." his smile and gleam in his eye went against his tone, but Seras understood the challenge, jokingly or not.

"Okay then. Let's get to work. I'll help out today, but if you want to try getting better than me, I'm afraid I'll have to hold out. Here." Ernest stood to his full height, a few inches taller than Seras herself, and turned to her direction. She held a rifle in her hands, and wasted no time in pushing it into Ernest's. "Let's get started then. Follow me." She smiled her cheerful way and led him to the far end of the shooting range.

The stall she gestured him into was small and cramped, though perfectly sized for someone standing to shoot. At the far end was a single human shaped target, small circles over where the heart and brain would be. "Have you ever shot a gun before?"

Ernest's father went out every year during deer season to try his luck. He'd invited Ernest on multiple occasions. Not a single time had he accepted. "No… Never had a chance to, I guess." he lied.

"Hmm, then follow my instructions. Do you know how to hold it?" Ernest tried to adjust it onto his shoulder, and it seemed enough to please the blonde standing over him. "Now turn off the safety." Safety? What was that anyway? He fumbled around with one hand, trying to find whatever it was she was talking about. At one point his finger hit against something near the trigger, a button of sorts. Accidentally pressing it seemed to be exactly what she was looking for. "Very nice. Try to aim your gun at one of the targets. Don't bother with the scope, either."

Ernest looked up at her skeptically. Don't use the scope? How was he supposed to aim, then? At her smile in his direction he shrugged it off. She knew what she was doing, at least. He looked at the target and tried his best to aim at it. Finally he thought he had it on center… all he had to do was _BANG!_ He pulled the trigger, a loud sound making itself known as he did.

Excited at his first shot with the gun, he looked up at Seras for a moment to find a lackluster frown. He looked back at the target and saw the problem. It looked exactly the same as before… He'd missed!

"Er… well, that was a good first try. A bit more practice perhaps?" She continued to teach him how to shoot the rifle correctly. Not a single time did he hit the target. The night continued on with little result. After few hours he finally did hit it one time. Right on the knee. A place that would regenerate in seconds with any vampire worth his salt.

"Eh, you'll get better with time, I'm sure." Seras promised. She put a gloved hand on his back and smiled. Cheery as ever after all the failures… What was this girl's secret? Ernest stood and backed away from the shooting stall. He'd been firing that gun for almost half the night. It went without saying a break was in order. He handed the gun to Seras and turned to the bench at the back of the covered range.

"Hello hello!" A new voice caused the boy to jump out of his skin. His brown eyes flew to the direction it came from, and his eyes laid to rest on the form of a boy sitting on the bench. One leg bent up on the bench in front of him, and the other on the ground, his hands holding him up from the wall. He wore a uniform similar to Seras', the main difference being he wore pants instead of a skimpy skirt. His hair was similar to the vampire's as well, blonde and spiked, though significantly shorter, and definitely more masculine. He smiled with a cheeriness that surely only Seras' could muster, though the difference being it reminded slightly of Alucard's. It was sadistic, it wasn't creepy, there was just something about it…

Oh right!

Insanity!

Surely through all this, none of that was the boy's most interesting features. Instead, the thing on his body that drew the most attention were his ears. He didn't have human ears, instead two spiked cats ears right on the top of his head. The dark fur contrasted his dirty blonde hair, but they were undoubtedly real on his head.

It seemed Seras was just as surprised as Ernest was, because as soon as the strange boy spoke Ernest heard a high toned yelp. "Schrodinger! Don't scare me like that!"

He snickered in a slightly mad manner, hand coming to his mouth as he chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to scare the big terrifying vampire."

If looks could kill, the glare she gave the Schrodinger boy would sery have killed him in moments. "Shut up. What is it?"

He laughed to himself, obviously more prone to fits of laughter than Ernest. "Sorry, sorry. Orders from Integra, she wants you and Henry to report to her office. Something about vampire attacks. Probably nothing major, just mass death and destruction."

* * *

**What is this?! Schrodinger? Like the Nazi's pet cat Schrodinger? Like, the most humorous Nazi of ALL TIME Schrodinger?! What's he doing in Hellsing?! Isn't he dead?! Why does Seras not seem scared?! Why am I asking so many questions?!**

**Haha, I promise this will make sense next chapter, for now just accept it and try not to kill me. I couldn't resist having Schrodinger in this. He's really is my favorite Nazi of all time. And no, this is not a lazy resurrection attempt... I'm not that stupid. There really is a way this is possible, at least in theory.**

**I hope you enjoyed my chapter, I had more fun writing it than I should have. A little jump into Ernest's mind about his situation, and there will be a mite more of that next chapter. And I promise action. Usually I'll set up an action sequence until the cows come home, but I'm going to try not to bore everyone reading this to death with fluff. As always, leave a review! Criticism is wonderful, and your opinions on the story warm my heart! Did I screw up at all? Is there something I shouldn't have done? Is there something I should keep doing? Feel free to tell me, I'd love to hear it all.**

**Again, I think I forgot to put this in the last chapter. Right now we haven't reached the meat of the story, but if you want to draw concept art, fan art, and the like, feel free to submit it to my gmail Dontbedumb18 . If I like it, you could very well give this story its own cover photo.**

**I sincerely hope you enjoy reading my writing as much as I enjoy making it. Leave a review, a flame, anything, and keep coming back for more!**

**And with that, Adieu.**


	4. A Few Burning Houses

The back of a truck was no longer a place Ernest could recommend to anyone as a comfortable place to ride. The apparent vampire attacks had been reported in a small town near London. Integra of course gave the three, being Alucard, Seras, and himself, minimal information about what awaited them at their destination. Fortunately, it wasn't a topic he was all too excited about learning anyway. If the enemy was anywhere near as powerful as even just Seras he wouldn't be of much worth on the mission. Coincidentally, he couldn't even shoot a gun, so his usefulness was at an absolute minimum where he stood.

It was a good thing Integra had counted on exactly that, and he was instead merely there to watch the fight unfold and learn how they did things. She claimed there was a large difference in perspective between being shot and, and being the one shooting.

Three others sat in the seats of the truck with him. Seras, to his right, busied herself with playing at her white gloves curiously. It looked to Ernest as if she were merely having a difficult time getting them to feel nice on her hand. Alucard sat directly across from the boy, wearing his entire outfit as always. A nice white dress shirt, covered mostly by a black vest. Around his neck hung a loose fitting blood red tie, the same shade as his enormous trench coat. Atop his head sat hi beloved wide brimmed red fedora, and eyes hidden behind the veil of orange tinted sunglasses, which the boy noticed at the uncanny appearance of being on upside down. His face was consumed with a humored smile, probably imagining the gore about to show itself at their destination.

Finally the last inhabitant of the truck hung from the ceiling carelessly, knees bent over a structure bar. Schrodinger swung back and forth slowly, his easily entertained smile never ceasing in his upside down position. The cat boy didn't seem to care when the vehicle hit a bump in the road and he was almost sent crashing to the ground, instead he merely chuckled as his face came near to having quite the experience with Seras' chest.

Integra had given specific instructions to them all for the mission. Alucard was to find and destroy the offensive vampire, and Seras was ordered to search the near area for more of the beastly kind. Ernest was to follow and take notes, it didn't matter who he chose to. Schrodinger was to keep an eye on Ernest while they were out and ensure he didn't try to make a run for it while Hellsing's pets were busy hunting.

The silence had been established the moment they set foot in the truck, the only real spoken noises being the infamous cat-boy's occasional giggles. Alucard was the first to break the long held quiet. "We're almost there." it might have been Ernest's imagination, but he could have sworn his sadistic smile grew slightly. "Get ready. This is going to be fun." one short chuckle later and Ernest was bracing himself for the worst. The red clad vampire glanced upward slightly at Schrodinger's knees. "Get down."

The smile faded from the boy's face as he turned towards Alucard. "You're no fun." with that simple sentence he straightened his legs and fell. Turning in mid air he managed to land on his feet, proceeding to bow. He straightened up and closed his eyes for a moment, mischievous smile returning. After a moment it disappeared and he looked at Ernest. "No clapping?"

Ernest looked around at the reactions of the other two vampires. Supremely unimpressed as they looked, he had a feeling the cat-boy was going to become very annoying very quickly. After a moment he finally relented to humoring him and he clapped one time, a bored expression never leaving his face. In reply Schrodinger threw back his head and laughed louder than was ever necessary. "I like you. No one else in this organization would ever clap. Integra would probably shoot my head off. She does that at least twice a day, though, so it's not surprising. I think she's hoping one of these days it'll actually kill me!" he threw back his neck and laughed again.

Schrodinger situation was less than thoroughly explained to Ernest. From what he understood the strange kid was a former Nazi with the uncanny ability to be everywhere and nowhere at once. It was a good thing that had been introduced about the same time he'd become a vampire, or it would be harder to believe. Much easier to just have the entire barrel of nonsense poured on his head at once. Anyway, apparently Alucard ate him and it caused a few issues with hi being able to be everywhere again. Alucard went out of commision for thirty years as a result, and spent time destroying the souls of the people he drank one at a time, leaving only his own and Schrodinger's. After doing that, Alucard not only gained Schrodinger's abilities, but also gave the boy's soul a chance to find itself again, and create a manifestation of his body. So in short, he was a dis-ensouled body, his soul being inside Alucard instead. Because of this, the former Nazi was bound to the vampire forever. Schrodinger could not die unless Alucard did, and Alucard couldn't die because of Schrodinger's abilities, so it all rounded out in circular reasoning until Ernest got a headache and decided it was best not to think about it.

Now the immortal hybrid was on escort duty.

Seras at length seemed to decide her gloves fit and turned her attention to the matter at hand. "Oh good. This cramped car isn't much for scenery, is it?"

Ernest glanced her way with an inquiring look. "Don't you sleep in a coffin?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "But I sleep in there. Not wait around trying to stay awake long enough to reach a battle."

Ernest nodded with understanding. The mission was a simple matter of after the terrorist attack thirty three years ago in London, some of the attacking vampires managed to escape the massacre and avoid detection for a while. Hellsing had been spending all its time since tracking down and destroying the stragglers. Alyssa was apparently the spawn of one such vampire in his area, one that thankfully had long been killed. The one in the town they were going to didn't seem to be as clever as the one in Ernest's old town. Instead of targeting only virgins that could be turned into vampires to avoid suspicion, this one had started creating a group of Ghouls, the result of a non-virgin, or someone of the vampire's same sex being turned. Akin to zombies, the ghouls were easily spotted, and as soon as they were Hellsing was quick to swoop in and handle the situation.

The truck stopped with a jolt, throwing Ernest in his seat a few inches. If not for his being held up by Seras he probably would have fallen completely. Schrodinger snickered to himself and walked to the door. Opening it quickly he hopped down and took a few steps away. "Yep! Chaos everywhere!" he shouted cheerfully. There was something wrong with his mind…

Ernest stood and stretched, reaching his arms above his head as he heard the familiar sound of bone cracking, then followed suit to the ground. Alucard and Seras came out together to assess the situation. Whatever had happened, it wasn't pretty, and it was fresh. Surely a row of houses combusting, and dead bodies left stinking on the ground couldn't go unnoticed, and unreported for very long.

Flames still flickered brightly on the house closest to the stopped truck, smoke and ashes flying high into the air, blotting out the sight of the moon. The body of a recently deceased man lay on the front doorstep, blood slowly trickling from a wound on his neck. Despicable! A vampire wreaking havoc who couldn't even finish his meals.

The sight was actually enough to make Ernest feel queasy. It came as no surprise that he'd never been faced with the rotting dead corpse of a man before, and the slicing of his neck brought nothing but disgust to his mind. What kind of wretched monster would do this?

Alucard was particularly less fazed. His reaction to the sight was a hearty laugh. "Haha! Well, at least we know we aren't dealing with any geniuses. A vampire with half a brain should know to keep on the low-key." he walked forward a few steps, covering more ground in those few than Ernest thought he could in ten. "Shame, though," he said after considering things for a moment. "I haven't had a decent opponent in thirty years…"

_BANG!_

An enormous sound resonated through the air. All eyes shot in the direction it came from. A mushroom cloud of smoke and ash rose high up into the air before their eyes, polluting their vision even more than it had been before. "Well then." Seras spoke. "There's Alucard's target, then. Henry, come with me for this one. You're still too fragile to be around Alucard while he's fighting." Ernest stood for a moment watching the cloud of smoke. He almost didn't realize to react to the call, not registering for a moment that was his chosen alias…

Thankfully Schrodinger nudged him before he could be made a fool of, bringing him to his senses. "Oh, yes ma'am!" he took one last glance around. Alucard was already out of sight, undoubtedly heading towards his own battle. He mentally slapped himself for his slowness and hastened to catch up with the already alert and moving Seras.

The three of them almost jogged around the few unscathed houses left on the street. Even where there were no fires, the neighborhood was still almost completely devoid of life. There was no noise in the short string of houses other than the crunching of their own feet on the ground, and the crumbling burning of the houses they'd left behind. Smell was nothing but smoke and flames, neither himself nor Seras able to discern anything else, even with their heightened senses.

"Odd…" the girl mumbled to herself. Ernest could feel the unease rising inside of her.

"Hmm? What's so odd?" he inquired. There was never an end to questions.

"There's no vampires anywhere near here." she stated simply. Even with the realization, she did nothing if not tense up more.

"What? How can you tell?" they'd been out there less than five minutes. How could she possibly know?

"Smell the air." she replied.

"I have been, it's nothing but smoke an-"

"Pay attention. Don't just breathe, actually figure out just what it is you're sensing." she alf scowled at him, her usual cheery attitude now deadly serious.

Ernest decided it best not to argue. Alucard might make him do something ridiculous for a laugh, but Seras was less petty. He closed his eyes for a moment in concentration. Taking a deep breath, he realized what she meant. '_Don't breath, smell...'_ suddenly made a lot more sense. One whiff and he had a mental map of everything around him. The placement of the houses around him, where the smoke was coming from, and where his companions were standing. Everything had a unique smell. Now he knew what she meant. There wasn't a single smell he couldn't place in an instant, certainly no vampires… the only anomaly was a faint smell of-

"This way!" Seras grabbed his arm and dashed away from where they had stopped. Weaving through houses seemingly without aim, she continued pulling him. Schrodinger looked like he was having a difficult time keeping up with her vampiric speed, but that was to be expected. If they lost him he'd appear next to them within a matter of seconds anyway.

Where they stopped was a cul de sac. The last burning house of the flaming road stood falling to the ground. Ernest smelled the air again, trying to pick out every single different smell. Fire, smoke, Seras, Schrodinger, blood… blood… _blood._

Suddenly his stomach rumbled at the thought. Perhaps a meal was in order, after all. He hadn't eaten in three days, so as soon as he reached Hellsing again… he stopped short of his thoughts, however, as soon as he realized what they'd give him. And what he'd have to suck up and eat.

_Blood_

He could smell it everywhere around him. He hadn't noticed before… Around him weren't just flaming houses burnt to the ground! Those were people's homes! And the people who owned them… well, they'd all met with an unfortunate fate. What would a dead person need with their blood anyway? They weren't using it anymore…

"Henry!"

He burst out of his thoughts and flinched. What was going on again? Oh yes! Scouting for other vampires… or even finding the original. "I can't smell anything strange. What did you take us here for?"

She shot a deadly look at him. "It's just as much my job to save any humans left in the wreckage. There's a survivor."

Ernest looked at her incredulously. "Really? How can you even _tell?_ All I can smell is smoke and… and… and blood." he almost went into another lustful doze, reality hitting him before he could.

"Can you not tell the difference between bleeding and intact? Just _blood_?" she scowled in a flash of anger he didn't know she was capable of. She was obviously not impressed by his lustful thoughts. "Perhaps my assumptions of you were mildly wrong." her fists began to shake slightly, clenched at her sides.

"Ooh! Someone made Seras angry. How'd you do it? I've been trying, but I haven't managed this level of rage yet." Schrodinger laughed loudly at his own antics and stood up closer to Ernest.

Seras' eyes lost a little bit of their flare when he spoke. Ernest noted to remember to thank the cat-boy for that. Seras didn't seem to take the matter so thankfully, instead taking two steps toward the annoyance and punching his head clean off his neck in one punch. Blood splattered all over her fist, and on Ernest's shirt. The headless body fell to the ground, its crippled body unmoving.

"Nice punch there, it almost hurt a little." Schrodinger's voice run tauntingly from behind Ernest. He swiveled around to face the unkillable nuisance. "Though I guess we shouldn't really be wasting time, should we? No telling when the vampire we can't seem to find will take out the last of the living people." he chuckled again madly, lips curled in his mischievous grin.

Seras' scowl was enough of a response/ With a simple order to follow her, she led the two boys into the nearest house. The short doorway was cracked and smoldering, the heat from the fire having effected it just short of catching flame. Inside the house was a definite smell of blood, and according to Seras' senses, unspilled as well.

The living room that the door gave entry to seemed normal. Nothing was out of place, it seemed. Nothing broken, nothing strewn anywhere. Ernest doubted if there was even a speck of dust out of place. Seras put a finger to her lip and motioned to follow her quietly. The stairs that led upstairs were just as normal. Even walking up them nothing creaked or groaned in a manner that couldn't be expected in a house of its stature.

The hallway was clean.

The second door on the right was clean.

This was where Seras stopped, and motioned for the two boys to stop behind her. The door was closed. Nothing abnormal about it. Was she really completely sure she knew what she was doing? Ernest took a step closer to her as she leaned against the door, hand on the knob.

Ernest braced himself for the worst. He couldn't smell anything coming from inside, but what could she sense? What was she getting that he couldn't see? He watched her slowly turn the knob around…

She busted in the room, boots hitting the floor hard as she rushed. Ernest followed quickly, almost hitting the doorframe on his way in. The unveiling moment! What had she sensed behind the door? he looked around the room. It was neatly arranged. A queen sized bed against the way, pristine white sheets. A dresser of a dark wood against the other wall. A nightstand of the same type beside the bed, a lamp sitting on top turned on. Underneath was an old looking book, sitting at a perfect angle against the corner of the table.

On the far side of the room was a square window, looking out over the neighborhood, a perfect view of the fires. Curtains fluttered at the sides of the opened window, letting a chilling breeze inside.

In front of the window stood one man. Only just taller than Ernest, his head was covered in neat brown hair, parted to one side. His thin stature did almost nothing to hinder the view outside. We wore a white dress shirt, tucked into a dark brown pair of trousers. His chest was covered by a vest of the same color, and on hi feet he wore brown canvas shoes.

"It's about time. I thought the police would have showed up long ago." he said. He turned around to face the three intruders. He wore a thin smile on his face, lined with age. He looked to be in about his late forties at most. On his face were a pair of angled spectacles, rectangular. "My name is Blake Casimir. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting tonight?"

* * *

**Does this count as a cliff hanger? Cutting off in the middle of a battle that hasn't even started, but promises to be put in next chapter? I honestly don't know... If I TELL you the next chapter is going to be an epic battle, does THAT make it a cliff hanger? No? Mkay. Well then... um... this is awkward. ANYWAY! The next chapter is an epic battle! Just a heads up!**

**Haha, well, it certainly raises questions at least. Who is this mysterious Blake Casimir? What is he doing so calmly while the rest of the neighborhood burns to the ground? **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and it was a joy to write, as all my chapters are. Leave a review, some nice criticism, a FLAME even. I love it all.**

**And with that, Adieu. **


	5. Blake Casimir

Everything held onto the faint tint of orange the flames gave off. Nothing but a humongous back cloud, the sky showed no stars. Instead the only dash of color was the reflection of the fire off the smoke. The grass was black for all the strewn ash, and with every step Alucard took it threw the infernal dust in the air, blocking his vision even more. For the first time that night he frowned in frustration. Perhaps whoever was causing so much trouble was smarter than he anticipated. Amongst all the flames and smoke it was difficult to see anywhere, and the floating ash put the mere consideration of breathing to shame. Unless he wanted a nostril full of foul smelling waste, that was.

Then again, a smarter opponent made for a more entertaining time.

Yes, the smile crept out of hiding and shown full force on the vampire's face. He took off his sunglasses and folded them into a pocket on the front of his coat. They did nothing more than collect ash and block his vision anyway. He looked around one more time for someone to fight. Perhaps they were wrong. They must have been tricked and the enemy escaped… how pitiful…

Maybe Seras was having better luck. There was the chance she had come across the Freak before he had. Yes. That must have been the case, or else he escaped. Alucard turned and began to walk back towards the smell of his fledgling.

_Aaaauuuugggghhhh…_

The unmistakable moan of a Ghoul reverberated through the air. That would be trouble if not taken care of immediately. Ghouls were no problem alone, but they had a tendency to multiply quickly. Undoubtedly there were already far more than he had the patience to fight. What was the fun in a few fledglings when there was a more powerful entity around? Nonetheless he turned on his heels and dashed to the source of the noise.

Boards creaked and groaned around him, the houses threatening to topple at any moment. Not much of a problem all things considered. A few planks of wood would be nothing more than showering toothpicks, after all.

And there was the ghoul! Walking slowly among the wreckage, showing no signs of doing anything important. Alucard grinned. He stepped slowly from behind the cover of the house. Against one ghoul? No need for stealth. Hell, there was no need for stealth against anything.

The ghoul turned at the sound of the crunching grass, laying its eyes on Alucard's tall intimidating form. Though, of course, intimidation has no place in the mindless body of a ghoul.

It ran straight at Alucard, arms swinging wildly as its feet raced. In less than a second it was atop Alucard, slashing and cutting his body.

Alucard merely smiled in response, laughing as the pseudo-zombie slashed and tore. Alucard let it have its fun for a moment before retaliating. His arm straightened around the neck of the ghoul, lifting the corpse into the air as he crushed its neck. The ghoul's head fell to the ground, blood oozing out on Alucard's gloves. He chuckled at the weakness of the one mindless slave. It was a good thing it was there. Where there were ghouls, there were more powerful vampires.

Smiling at this, he continued his search for the vampire. Every house was now suspicious. It was strange. When he reached an area where he could smell without snorting ash he could tell nothing abnormal. There was no presence in the area that he didn't know about. The vampire was nowhere he could sense… But there were ghouls. Perhaps it would be worth his time to exterminate the pests now. There was a large group of them roughly… say, two houses down. Some poor sap must have just been caught, otherwise they wouldn't be all together. Smile availing him still, he strolled in the direction of the scent.

Sure enough, there they were. Bodies of rotting flesh, skin and muscle falling off their arms as it rotted away. Alucard decided he was correct in assuming they had found a person. The smell of blood was overwhelming, and the large group was in a frenzy, scratching and clawing at each other for a go at the meal.

Alucard ran into the midst of it and grabbed one's throat. Crushing it like he did the last's, its head fell to the ground. The rest of the ghouls wasted no time in retaliating. Their rotten hands cut away at Alucard's skin, a small burning sensation permeating through his body. He laughed gleefully and grabbed one's head, pulling it off its neck. Still more he swung his hand through the rotten bodies, swatting them away with ease. Still they stood again and charged back. Rotten, spoiled blood flew in all directions as he one by one picked them off. A hand grabbed his beloved red tie and yanked downwards, trying to pull the vampire to the ground. Instead he was met with the fate of having Alucard pull the arm out of its socket and smacking the offending ghoul in the head!

Still more came, hands grabbing and scratching and clawing, doing absolutely nothing to slow Alucard down. He slid his fist through another, turning his arm to slice through its body and through the torso of the one next to it, both bodies falling to the ground now properly dead. A form landed on his back, the surprise of the force managing to push the vampire dow this time, though only a little. The light weight of a ghoul wasn't enough to push Alucard to the ground! He gripped its shoulders and flung it away. The ghoul landed atop its comrades, head smashed in the back, effectively killing it. Its former allies proceeded to tear off chunks of their fallen friend's flesh and eat the sloppily. After a moment nothing remained of the destroyed ghoul.

Alucard hissed in disgust at the cannibalism and pulled out his guns. Fun time was over. His shiny black pistol, the _Jackal_, hung in his hand loosely. he smiled as he aimed at the line and ghouls and pulled the trigger. One fell in a bloody heap on the ground, followed quickly by its fellows, dropping one by one with glittering holes in their heads and chests. It was only seconds before he exterminated the last one, its body falling helplessly on top of the rest.

Sticking the gun back in a pocket on the inside of his coat, he returned to attempting to find the leading vampire…

* * *

"So Seras Victoria and Henry Alabast? Delightful!" The man smiled brightly and adjusted the glasses on his face. "I've read much about you, my dear girl." he smiled at Seras good naturedly.

The girl stared him down, her red eyes filled with enough confusion her body seemed to be radiating yellow. He was so calm amongst all the trouble… she shook her head, deciding it best to think about things later. She held out her hand to him. "Come on, we've got to get you out of here. It's not safe."

Blake Casimir stared at her hand blankly for a moment, looking baffled as to what exactly she wanted him to do. "Why would I want to leave? No thank you, I'm very busy at the moment. You know the way out." He turned back and looked out the window again, waving his hand in rejection to her request.

Schrodinger chuckled in the doorway for a moment, but no one paid him any mind. She walked to the obviously confused man and grabbed his shoulder. "Blake, was it? Yes. I'm afraid it wasn't a request, it was an order. We have to go you out of here. There's no telling when this house will catch fire as well."

Blake laughed for a moment before turning again to face the female vampire. "Catch fire? Here? No, no, no, you don't understand. The fire is safely contained on the other side of a neighborhood. There's no way it could reach me at all. Besides, I'm very interested in watching from up here. Why go outside where it's cold?"

It seemed she finally lost her patience as she took full possession of Blake's arm, pulling him easily away from the window. "He-Hey! Get off me! Ow…" He gripped his shoulder with his free hand as she dragged him out of the door. Ernest was quick to follow the two out of the room, just as confused himself about the man's strange behavior.

When they reached the stairs Seras released her hold on the man's arm. he rubbed it softly, no doubt she had used a bit more pressure than was really needed. "Now, you either walk down the stairs willingly, or I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you until we reach somewhere safe. Would your dignity allow that?" she glowered.

Blake returned the evil eye without hesitation. "Hmph. A girl as small as you? I'd like to see you try." He smiled smugly.

Seras raised an eyebrow in return. She took only one step towards the man before his eyes widened. After his arm's encounter with her strength, surely he had no doubts whatsoever. "Fine, fine! I'll go outside! Happy now?" Seras smiled herself, back to her innocent face she usually wore.

"Yes. Now come on, we don't have much time. The fire could catch at any time." He huffed in response, but deemed it unwise to answer still. In truth Seras wasn't worried about the fire at all. Rather the larger danger were the ghouls. Surely there were a few in the area. They were easily smelt, but they had yet to be seen… Seconds later they were outside the front door. Nothing much had changed outside at all, concerning the scenery. The fire was burning hot and high on the other side of the cul de sac, and smoke rose like a thick cloud in the air, mostly blocking vision.

"Delightful, delightful… are you all pleased? Have I done what you've asked? Can I return to my work now? I'm a very busy man, and after these results I believe I need to return to my research papers." Blake raised his hands above his head as he spoke. He held a threatening edge to his voice, saying clearly that he was finished with them.

Now his attitude was getting Ernest angry. Could he not just accept help when chaos surrounded him? Some people were just… "God, shut up! Can you not see we're trying to help you out? If we don't get you out of here now, you'll die and that's the end of it, okay? Okay. Now come with us to a safer place. Then we'll leave, and you can go about your merry day." he shouted at the brown haired man. Stupidity was simply not something he had the capacity to tolerate…

"What? You think you're saving me from this? Good God you people don't get it! I can't leave my data without recording it! If I leave now coming here in the first place was a waste of time, and that's something I can't tolerate. I will not have a few policemen come in and ruin my research!" Blake's eyes burned with anger as well. They bore into Ernest, his anger directed at the boy.

Seras was simply getting more and more irritated. "What is this research you keep talking about? Is it not something you can't just pick up and bring with us? Listen, we're trying to do our job. What is it so important that you can't just drop it and come back?"

Blake looked at her incredulously, mouth partially hanging open. "Well, can you pick up a town and bring it to safety? I'd think not. And you add to that safety would ruin the data! you can't stop tests halfway through."

"Wait, the _town_ is your experiment?" Seras was baffled for a moment before a look of realization fell upon her. "Y-you're not a vampire. Impossible. You don't smell right!" she looked at Ernest hopefully. "He doesn't smell odd to you?"

Ernest quickly shook his head. Was this man insane as well? Probably not. Considering all the insane people he'd met over the last three days, he was probably one of the least mad. Schrodinger continued giggling in the background. Had someone given him caffeine? "No, he smells human. There's nothing odd about him. Well, his smell at least…"

Seras nodded and returned her gaze to Blake. "What are you rambling on about? If you're not a vampire, just what are you to be able to cause this?"

"Vampires? Wait wait wait… you three are vampires? Real ones?" his face turned into a grin to rival Alucard's at the prospect.

"I'm not!" Schrodinger jumped up and down, waving his hands above his head cheerfully. Nothing seemed to please the boy more than being odd.

Blake shortly pointed at the cat-boy, tapped his nose, and brought his hand to a leather bag hanging on his shoulder. "Oh ho my luck today! Real vampires!" he opened the satchel and pulled out small stack of papers. He glanced at the words written and then back up at Seras and Ernest. "Perfectly fitting the description too! you two aren't even just Freaks, you're the real thing!"

Seras went on alert immediately, reaching to snatch the papers from Blake's hand. Too late was her action, as he stuck them easily back in a folder. "Yes yes, perfect test subjects. It was nice meeting you two, sincerely. Now I'm going to need you to die." he said everything with a cheery smile, as if nothing could be more happy in the world than vampires and death and fire.

"Wait, wh-!" Seras started, but was cut off by the feeling of a hand grab around her ankle. She looked down to find a rotting had firmly gripping her feet, and pulling down, as if trying to hoist the rest of a body out of the ground. She screamed loudly and jumped away from the corpse arm, which continued to grab around for something to hold onto.

"What the- You!" she pointed accusingly at Blake. "What did you do?!"

He shrugged lightly. "You're vampires, and thus perfect test subjects. Can my reanimated ghouls take down the most professional killers of the night?" he laughed as if enjoying his own inside joke. "Well, I believe I'll be watching this from a safe distance, to ta. I'd wish to see you again, but that would mean I'm a failure, so no. Please have a good time losing your life to the reanimated." he turned on his heels and walked slowly away to a different house. Seras was quick to follow, letting her vampiric speed show as show followed pursuit. Or at least, she would have if not for the new hand grasping at her ankle.

"Seras!" Ernest called to the girl loudly. She turned to her comrade in training to find him being held by a ghoul! It bit at his shoulders as he struggled to escape, but its controlled grip was too firm. He couldn't make it budge an inch. She dashed to his side and knocked the ghoul off of him, tearing its head off in the process. With that taken care of she turned to the direction Blake walked off to, but he was already gone.

"Damn… Ernest, come with me, we need to find Alucard." She gripped his hand and pulled him up from the ground. They needed to report their findings to Alucard, or this man might become a threat: vampire or no.

He steadied himself on her shoulder before looking before him. Approaching quickly was a humongous group of ghouls! Their rotten bodies moaned and wailed as they ran as fast as their decomposing bodies could carry them. "Seras, look!" he shouted, eyes growing wide. she turned just in time to have her face swiped at by the nearest ghoul. She howled in pain and released Ernest from her hold. He stumbled, but regained his balance quickly. A ghoul whipped its rotten arm around at his head, but he managed to duck away, allowing his assailant to stumble and fall on the ground. Whether it was bravery, or pure horrified reaction, Ernest stomped his foot down on the ghoul's head before it could stand again. A dark liquid Ernest could only take as spoiled blood splattered all over his shoes. He'd need new pair when they got back to headquarters…

More ghouls approached, surrounding the two vampires entirely. Where had Schrodinger gone? Surely he hadn't just run as soon as things got difficult… or maybe he had. That was more likely.

Seras let all thought leave her as she slashed away with her hands at the attacking ghouls. Oh how she wished she had a few guns like Alucard… At least then she's have an easier time. Instead she had to settle for shredding the ghouls apart.

Three at once attacked her, two from both sides and one below. Kicking the first away, she punched out to her sides to hold off the other two, landing her fist inside one's mouth. It chomped down on her hand, actually breaking through the bone and cutting her fingers off. It chewed greedily on them, her own blood splattered across its dead face. Disgusted he kicked out with her foot and caught its jaw. The head landed some twenty feet away as she continued fending off the mass of the undead.

Thankfully most were going for her and Ernest only had to dodge the occasional swipe. A pain in his leg caused him to glance down at the source, to find a fallen ghoul was making a meal out of his ankle. Wildly flailing his leg around, he yelped and jumped, pushing the revolting creature away. His blood trickled down to the grass, but the wound thankfully healed quickly. the last thing they needed was a broken heel when trying to escape.

"Alucard! Help!" He heard Seras call. There, dashing between two houses Alucard approached, a gun in both of his hands. He smiled sadistically and fired his guns simultaneously, hitting the ghouls dead. Enormous bullet holes started appearing in their chests and heads, almost a miracle there was still a chest to define. The elder vampire's red coat swirled magnificently behind him as he fired his gun, downing the ghouls as if they were no better than the targets at the shooting range.

Ernest found a way between two ghouls, both trying to get to Seras without being shot down, and he ran through the gap. Emerging on the other side, he hastened to find himself beside Alucard. "Boy!" he heard Alucard's voice call out to him. He looked up at the vampire's towering face to find it glowing with rage. "You can't even handle yourself out here! A few measly ghouls have you running away in fear! You're a long way from a true nosferatu." he spoke staring straight at Ernest, still firing his guns at the approaching ghouls, hitting them dead on without even glancing to see where we was aiming.

Seras fought on, her fists smashing through ghoul after ghoul as they came at her, gloves completely stained red. Her normally innocent eyes had taken on a fearsome glower as she fought, the bloodlust of the fight making it more and more enjoyable.

Ernest looked down at his hands. Cold, dead, and thin. He couldn't fight, he couldn't shoot a gun. He was there for the sole purpose of watching. He wasn't actually worth anything to them…

What was he good for?

* * *

**And chapter five is finished! I told you there would be action, no?**

**So Blake Casimir has proven more dangerous than originally thought, eh? How did he call the ghouls? How were the even created without a vampire? Why didn't they attack him? What are these experiments he's running, and how does he know about vampires? How much?**

**This chapter was addictive to write. Exciting and fast paced, and it still ended up on of my longer chapters. How about that? Anyway, leave a review. I was tentative to post this chapter at first, not thinking my action writing skill was up to par, but I had it run by a few people and I believe they used the word "Exhilarating" so I gave it a try. How do you think I did?**

**Review Responses:**

**Della-Avril:**

**I'm glad you're enjoying it so much! I'm glad Ernest proved to be an interesting character for you. In all honesty he scared me a bit. It was just after I posted chapter one that I first heard of the term "Mary-Sue" and I was a bit terrified at the prospect... I guess I did better than I thought! Yes, Ernest was accepting things a mite quickly, I believe, and I'm going to have that change very soon. You think he's accepted things? Closer to denial than anything else. And no, AlucardxSeras is not something I was planning on, but you might have something to go off of. Do any of my other readers perhaps have a pair they'd love to see?**

**ThePenusianArts:**

**Ooh, my first flame! Beautiful! Anyway, I think you're mistaken. You seem to have exactly nill knowledge of Hellsing, you seem more caught up in Dracula. Schrodinger and Alucard are both perfectly good canon characters, whether you hate them or not. If you don't like the "Juice-Box Man", why do you read on this area of the site? Ernest was not meant to be Emo, instead he was supposed to be cheery and full of it. I suppose I'll have to step up my game. Twilight sucks. Never played Castlevania. Oh, and a short note: Blake Casimir was not a name drawn out of a hat. I did research on what names mean, and their different roots. The name Blake translates to Black. Casimir is a mix of two words, the first meaning Destroy, and the second meaning Peace or World. In essence, Blake Casimir as a name roughly translates to "The Dark Destroyer". A nice villain name, methinks. Nothing to do with India whatsoever.**

**XEnd ResponsesX**

**Again, I hop you enjoyed the chapter, and this is on of my favorite ones yet. Revealing a villain always makes me giddy. Leave a review, love, criticism, another FLAME! I enjoy everything I get from you guys. **

**Adieu.**


	6. Detective Inspector Hawthorne

"Messy, messy, messy…" John Hawthorne muttered to himself, flipping through the stack of papers on his desk. One week's work made surprisingly little progress on the case. For two random psychopaths, these two were difficult to track down. Still, they left enough clues in their wake so he had somewhere to start,

Things were never simple in his line of work. Of course, that was his specialty: solving things that others couldn't. Such was the life of a private investigator. Layers of bags hung under his tired eyes, multiple sleepless nights beginning to take their toll. He'd taken to working late into the night, and napping periodically throughout the day. It was easier to concentrate at night. Less noise, no people to distract him, easy to concentrate on the important things. John drew his tired vision back to the papers in his hands, looking over the description of the suspects.

The first was a man. Witnesses claimed he had been entirely dressed in red, including orange sunglasses and white gloves, black hair about shoulder length streaking down the back of his neck. Though the length of his hair and clothes were of no matter. Those things were easily changed, after all. More useful were the personal descriptions. He had supposedly been tall, perhaps seven feet or more. His skin pale, almost white. And uncanny red eyes. Probably contacts. That would make things easier for finding him. It was simple to check the recent sales of companies that sold red contacts.

His companion was described as a short young lady, not possibly older than twenty. She was said to have short blonde hair, spiked at the bottom. That would be easier to track. The long hair of the man could be cut, but shorter hair meant fewer possible cover-ups. She was also reported to have the same red eyes, which made the previous method of tracking sellers all the more easy. Bodily description was small, with a large bust. Noticeable. Perfect. Furthermore, her height was significantly shorter than the man's, perhaps only five foot or slightly over.

John placed the files back down on the desk. Stretching with his hands over his head, he yawned quietly. Adjusting himself in his overly large clothing, he went back to work. An odd quirk in himself. When working he preferred clothes just a few sizes too large. The looseness helped him think. Obviously.

"Hmph, even with the mess I'm left with next to nothing…" '_Why?'_ he thought to himself. They'd come to a band concert, watched the entire performance, killed two children, and left. What did they gain from that? What were they trying to accomplish? '_Nothing, of course. People like that are beyond saving or reason...'_

The files did mention something else of importance, something he had been working on since he began the investigation on the murders of Alyssa Comb and Ernest Hunt. The latter of the two was killed supposedly from impact of being thrown into a concrete wall. The former, however, the girl, was shot at. Investigating bullet manufacturers was helpful after all.

Almost immediately after hearing about the incident, he'd requested the bullets found in the body of the girl. He was amazed to discover there _was_ no body to pull them out of. Instead, the body of the girl was reportedly "Turned to dust". Nonsense. The witnesses were obviously confused. They were all put in therapy shortly after the fact for the own mental safety. Unfortunately, this made their reports that much less useful. But the fact remained. The body of the girl had completely disappeared without a trace. John immediately assumed the two killers had run off with her body, but that idea was hastily thrown away. They were able to recover the bullets, which lay side by side on the ground! Now, of course, they lay on his desk in a plastic bag as evidence.

He stole a glance to them sitting there. Melted into metal patties, they were difficult to place for type and brand. They opened a new mystery. Picked up off the ground, they had gone through nothing afterwards, yet they held no blood. The girl was surely dead, or at least missing, and the bullets had hit her. Yet they were perfectly clean without a doubt, not a trace of DNA on them.

John frowned. He had them examined by a specialist, and he couldn't seem to place them either. They were a mystery, apparently crafted specially for the man. They also did not seem to fit any type of gun that was registered, suggesting that the man also had a gun that wasn't legal. All the better! A specially made gun with its own bullets meant someone had to make them. Search for the people who had the ability to make such weapons, and find if they had created something for one of the two suspects. As he had said: messy, messy, messy.

Placing the plastic bag of bullets back on his desk, he adjusted his position. Legs forward, dangling slightly off the ground in his chair, and elbows on the table, fingers intermingled as he thought. This case had so much evidence to assist in the two's tracking, yet seemed so difficult to solve. Something was missing from the puzzle, something that he couldn't quite place…

The sound of a knock sounded through the dark wooden door at the far end of the room. John's tired eyes rose as he stared at the door for a moment. Conversation… perhaps talking to someone would help. Take your mind off something for two seconds, and suddenly all the answers come flooding… "Come in." he muttered, just loud enough to be heard through the door frame.

Creaking as it opened, the door swung around granting a tall man entry. His hair was a dark brown, almost black. Neatly trimmed down to his ears, his smooth hair was accompanied by a sharp beard coming to a point on his chin. His skin was slightly tan, and his skin smooth. Bright green eyes adorned his face, glittering in the room's dim light. Dressed in black trousers and a grey vest, the spaniard strolled to the desk.

He frowned as he spoke in a low silky voice. "You are Mr. Hawthorne, correct?" obviously irritated, his words were lined with anger.

John nodded in answer, closing his eyes slowly as his head dipped. "Yes, that would be me. Do you have a problem, mister…"

"Hmm, Earl. Edward Earl." he held out his hand to John, who grasped it tight in return. "And, yes, I do have a problem. A member of my family was killed a few days ago. The police won't do anything about it. I was referred to you for help."

John ran his eyes up and down the man. "You're a man of spanish descent. Perhaps you grandparents moved to England two generations ago. Either your grandmother or… hmm, no, your grandfather came and married a brit. The result was you fa- mother. She married another englishman, and their child was you. You moved into Telton a few yea-months ago. With a wife? Yes. Your wife was murdered during the conflagration of North Elm Street, her body was probably found mutilated and almost unrecognisable. You were at work during the attack, and you returned to find your house empty. You searched the streets until you found her body. You called the police for a demand to find the culprit, but they refused to do anything. They said it was out of their jurisdiction. After asking around, you discovered me." John stretched his hands above his head again. His muscles would not stop paining him… sleep would surely be a welcome practice.

Edward's eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed slowly, unbelieving of the deduction before him. Who was this man before him? Surely no regular private eye. No one could possibly know his entire history, and the history of his family from a name. His mouth gaping, it was hard to speak from surprise, only uttering a short. "H-how?"

John smiled and chuckled to himself for a moment before looking Edward right in the eye. "Your reactions. The name Edward Earl is obviously not a Spanish name, yet the color of your skin speaks against. Also, you have a distinct british accent, no different from mine. If you were a Spaniard you would have their accent. Thus I drew the conclusion one of your ancestors had moved to England. Of course, it couldn't have been too long because then your skin color would have deteriorated with the genes into a pale white like my own. You grandparents was a test. I could see from the surprise in your eyes I was correct, so I continued. I could see when I was right and wrong due to how you reacted to the things I say."

Edward's mouth was still gaped rudely. Composing himself again, he straightened up his body and brushed his hands down his vest. "Yes, of course. I see, then." his frowning face turned slightly upward, impressed, but unwilling to show it.

"Haha, it's a simple trick. Fortune tellers use the same trick to tell your fortune and your past. It works pretty well, if I do say so myself, though not always as reliable as I'd like." he sat back in his seat and held his hands in his lap, fingers intertwined. "And I assure you, I'm already working on that case. you're the fifth person since the incident to come to me about lost family members and friends. The police will not investigate. Under orders from higher ups." His grin grew wider. "Luckily, I don't run on their rules. I'm working on finding them right now."

Edward's face grew grave. "So how far are you?"

John's face fell, back to his indifferent tired look. "Well, on that case not very far. Unfortunately, that was brought up in the middle of something else I was working on. A murder of two children at a church. The police were not involved in this incident either."

Edward's eyebrow perked in interest. "Really now? Well then…" he sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk from John. "I might have something that will interest you."

Intrigued, John gestured for Edward to explain. The Spaniard dug in his pocket for a moment. Pulling out a small plastic bag, he placed it on John's desk. "I found this beside one of the walls in the neighborhood. I've shot a few guns in my day, and I can recognise a melted bullet when I see one. I thought it might help…" John leaned forward and picked up the supposed melted "bullet".

A small patty of metal, no larger than a thimble. Indeed it must be a piece of ammunition, but what kind… John turned his gaze to his own stash of metal patties. The same shade of grey met his eyes.

The exact same bullets were used in the children's murders as in the Telton.

John grinned widely at his new employer. "Mr. Earl, I believe you've just assisted me in a great leap."

* * *

_BANG!_

There was no change in appearance to the target dummy ahead of him.

The moon's silver glow overhead illuminated the shooting range, its perfectly round shape allowing everything to bathe in a dull glow. The stars proved themselves braggarts as well, their bright sheen beautiful to the eye, surrounded completely by the dull blue of the cloudless winter night sky. Trees ahead swayed in a soft, frozen breeze, their leafless branches leaning steadily to one side.

_BANG!_

Still no change in the dummy.

Ernest had been firing the rifle at the target dummy for hours, wasting countless magazines of ammunition. He was sure if he used a gun like one of Alucard's with its special ammo he'd have been chewed out to no end. Surely bullets made out of melted silver from a cross that had hung in a church over the altar, and then been blessed by the pope, not to mention the explosive additives, were easy to come by. Fortunately, he was practicing with a regular rifle, the same one he'd shot with Seras the week before.

He'd gotten no better, of course. Over the entire night, he'd hit the target exactly three times. Once in the stomach, once on the right side of the chest, and once straight between the legs. None of that was skill, though, just a lucky shot that actually hit the dummy. He'd yet to actually "kill" a target.

_BANG!_

'_Damn it! Useless bastard…'_

He aimed carefully through the scope at the dummy once more. The cross of the lines directly in the head. Perfect. All he had to do was pull the trigger, and it should…

_Click._

Out of bullets.

Grimacing at his own inability to have ability, he turned and started to the ammunition cabinet. Over the entire night he had gotten no better! Every bullet he shot was a waste! Why was he even still there?! Alucard said it himself… A long way from being a true nosferatu he was… If he couldn't hit a simple lifeless target dummy, what made him think he'd be able to handle himself outside the mansion? Perhaps that was why they hadn't dropped him as a lost cause yet because they were too busy laughing at his failures to take a breath large enough to throw him out.

What would he do if they did? The vampire that he was… he'd eventually have to feed. Sure at the mansion there seemed to be an unending supply of medical blood, but if he was thrown out he would no longer be able to rely on that. He'd have to actually kill someone for a meal! The mere thought made his stomach clench up. He wouldn't be able to. He was fine with taking medical blood. That was willingly given to help people, and it sure as hell helped him. He'd decided one day just as a sort of test he wouldn't drink it. The next day when a fresh bag appeared in front of him he'd barely had the energy to walk to it. But that was a willing donation from people… going out and taking lives for his own benefit was simply against his moral code.

'_Heh, Henry Alabast the Friendly Vampire. Has a ring to it...'_ Yet he knew he would. If it came down to a decision between his own life and the life of some random off the street, he'd always choose his own. He rather enjoyed his life. It was _fun_. Surely he'd get desperate enough he'd kill a person. Then… then Hellsing would be after him! That was an even worse thought than just being thrown out and being forced to hunt. If he did he'd start being hunted by Alucard, the seven foot psychopath himself…

He shuddered at the thought.

Loading his rifle again, he took the few steps (exactly five) and returned to the slot. He held the gun up and looked through the scope. The lines intersected right over the heart… Steady, steady….

_BANG!_

The wind didn't even seem to have an effect.

"God Damn It!" he shouted for the world to hear. His frustration burned bright as he aimed again. He didn't bother aiming his sights on a lethal area anymore. Just hit the damn target this time!

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_Click._

Out of bullets again. Not a single one hit.

"Well, someone's having a hard time." a low taunting voice rang out behind him. Ernest himself was hunched over, holding his head and trying to restrain himself from pulling out his own hair.

"Dammit, Alucard, I'm not in the mood! Get out! I'm trying to become of _some_ use to you people! I don't need a freak berating me!" He turned around, standing his full height, not even close to matching the master vampire's. Still, he didn't back down, his glare enough to kill in itself.

"Tsk, tsk, someone's gotten themselves worked up… Wrath is your vice, boy. Contain yourself, or I might not be so friendly next time. I was personally content watching from the manor."

"Then why bother coming down? You couldn't contain yourself from bothering me when I'm trying to learn?"

"You call wasting your entire magazine out of anger learning? Don't make me laugh! And I'm out here on orders. My own Master told me to assist in making you useful, as you've proven to be worthless on your own." he smiled to himself, pleased with his obvious superiority.

Ernest let himself gradually calm down. If Integra told him to help, he was going to help. Whether he liked it or not. Not a great idea to make your teacher too angry, especially when said teacher could kill you by looking at you funny. "Then stop acting so smug and help. What the hell am I doing wrong?"

"You're being too human. Grab a magazine, boy, this may take a while." Alucard's smirk faded. Perhaps he knew when it was time to quit…

Ernest readily, if not grudgingly, obeyed the command. Grabbing a new case of ammunition he stuck the clip into the rifle. Taking the steps (five) to the slot, he held the gun up and pointed it at the target. He breathed slowly, trying to calm his fiery nerves. Crouching his head to look through the scope, he found the lines intersecting over the heart. All he had to do was pull the trigger…

"Wrong." Alucard scorned.

_BANG!_

Ernest shot at the last second, too late for his brain to register Alucard's jibe. The dummy rocked back and forth, the smallest hole appearing in its right hand. Well, at least it hit. Ernest scowled and looked up to Alucard's frowning face. "What was wrong? I thought I was doing perfectly."

"As I said. It's too human. First of all," he held out his hand, gesturing to Ernest. he placed the gun in the vampire's grasp and watched. "You don't need this." Alucard swiftly removed the scope from the fledgling's gun. Ernest was about to complain, but he held it tighter in his hand, effectively smashing the scope!

"Wh-what?! How am I supposed to see the target without a scope?! It's too far away to aim from here!" He groped for his rifle back, but was still unable to remove it from Alucard's iron grip. What was this, some sort of joke? Was he really helping, or did he come out there to do nothing more than taunt the boy?

"It's too far for a human, Boy! You've now joined the ranks of the undead! Scopes have no place here." he scolded Ernest, eyes glaring menacingly. Ernest shrunk back, realizing his mistake. Alucard was completely serious…

"But-"

"But what? But you want to play human so you can continue being your incredibly useful self? But you know more than your superiors about being a vampire, having been one for an entire _week_? Ha! You make a good jester, but you don't even have to play at being a fool!"

Ernest opened his mouth to reply, but found the words caught in his throat. This was an argument he could not win. Alucard held his hand open, offering the rifle back to Ernest. The boy nodded and held the gun again. Pointing it at the now still target dummy, Ernest crouched his head, closing one eye in an attempt to line up the shot. Without the scope it would be near impossible.

"Wrong."

Thankfully Ernest didn't let loose another bullet, or Alucard might have lost his head. Instead he looked back up to the teacher, waitin for an explanation.

"Keep both eyes open. closing the one will do nothing but hinder your vision." Ernest nodded meekly and crouched at the gun again, this time looking out to the target with both eyes open. How was this helping more than hurting? "Concentrate. Don't look with your eyes, just aim and shoot. Don't bother trying to see the target. That's something for the humans to deal with. You're a vampire, Ernest, now act like one." he spoke smoothly, knowing his words. Undoubtedly he'd done the same thing with Seras. He knew how to work younger vampires.

Concentrate… Concentrate… don't bother looking. Whatever you say, Alucard…

_BANG!_

The dummy flew back and forth on its stand. A large bullet hole straight through the stomach was the proof at Ernest's success! He'd hit it! Not in a deadly area, but at least close. Perhaps there was something to the vampire method…

"Horrible. I've never seen a worse shot in my life." Alucard said simply. His voice hinted to no emotion whatsoever. Ernest looked up to find the older vampire smiling. It was a small smile, but it was still visible. Not a smirk, not a sadistic grin… a small curl of the lips, slightly upward. Almost…proud. "You're a long way from becoming a true vampire."

Even his emotionless voice, his scornful words were redeemed by the small smile. Maybe he wasn't as cold hearted as he led Ernest to believe…

Ernest smiled himself at the mentor, quickly returning to the rifle. The rest of the night passed pitiably quickly. Ernest had still yet to fatally wound a target dummy, but he'd at least started to be able to hit the target. Slowly, steadily, he might start being something worth keeping around.

* * *

**Mhmhm, and the layers pile on! Leave a review, tel me what you think, and...**

**Adieu.**


	7. Deathly Realizations

Integra sat at her desk, hands in her hair, squeezing her skull in frustration. This was more of a problem than it was worth. No progress had been made on the North Elm conflagration. Tracking the person responsible was a harder task than anticipated.

Alucard diligently explained everything to her as soon as possible upon returning, every detail he had in store. The neighborhood was completely infested with Ghouls, running a muck everything they could possibly lay their hands on. Of course, Ghouls don't usually set fire to things, they just have a specialty in breaking them. Something else, something with actual intelligence must have lit the fire, or at least ordered a ghoul to. That opened up a new matter of importance.

Not a single vampire in the entire neighborhood, and that was concerning. If there were no vampires, there was nothing to create the ghouls. It was an impossible scenario. Ghouls didn't simply appear out of nowhere, they had to have a creator. The parent vampire must have used them as a distraction to make his escape. But that would have been no good… They were called to the scene because of ghoul spottings. If the ghouls were a distraction, then the vampire was running from nothing. They didn't even have one located in that area until the night of the fire. Instead of a vampire, they were faced with an even more bothersome matter.

Blake Casimir had been easy to track. It was not so common a name as to be impossible to locate, at least. And his description from Seras was useful in his tracking down: cleanly brushed hazelnut hair, thick glasses, pale skin, though not pale enough to be a vampire, and mundane clothing. Not especially tall, though not especially short, he was rather thin around the waist. That was the one thing Hellsing was able to carry up on. The tracking down of the strange man who had managed to scare Seras so much. No regular mortal was able to strike fear in a vampire. This man, Blake, was something special.

Seras had said he was a kook in himself. He raved about his tests, and his experiments. She reported that he was simply more than delighted at the fact they were vampires. That nothing could have been more enjoyable and agreeable to his experiments. He had only managed to escape under the distraction of the Ghouls themselves…

As soon as being informed about the man Integra sent out a search team to find him, and a team to find out who he was. Whatever he was doing, it couldn't be good. The search team made no progress whatsoever, actually managing to get itself lost in the process of trying to find the man. They had not sent back a report in four days.

The research team made significantly better progress. He had been a theologist. A studier of religion. Nothing he had done had any significance in recent history at all. He wasn't a very exciting man. What was probably the most interesting thing about his life was an event from some thirty-odd years ago. He was one of exactly seven survivors of the Nazi attack on London. The others were Integra herself, Heinkel Wolfe , Seras, and a small family that happened to have an especially useful panic room. He was one of the lucky few that managed to hide from the Freaks that attacked England. Hiding in a panic in the basement, his house was on the outskirts of the city, so there weren't as large attacks on his area as much as everywhere else: still, he was the only survivor from the area.

Integra released her now throbbing head, letting her now throbbing hands sit back down on the desk. She was aging, and it was noticeable. Her hands were wrinkled, the veins showing from outside the skin. Her face had lost its smooth skin, though thankfully she wasn't quite so old that it was a wrinkled mess. It was merely slightly drooping. Hmph. She never messed much with looks anyway.

"Alucard!" she called into the empty room. She could have whispered the name and he'd have come just as quickly, but shouting just had something pleasing to it. It felt better.

"Yes, my Master?" the red clad monster materialized through the wall, addressing her in his semi-mocking tone.

"I want you to attempt to find our friend, Mr. Casimir. We can't have someone as dangerous as him skulking the countryside. We have enough problems as it is cleaning up after Millennium." She thought about what she had said for a moment. Smirking, she added "Not that he could possibly compare to any of the others, at least. Just get the extra distraction out of the way." returning to her troubled frown.

"As you wish. Though if I may ask one thing: Why are we prioritizing a mere human?" His knowing grin made it apparent he already knew the answer: he just wanted to hear her say it.

Integra rolled her eyes in response, glowering. "His presence and laid back attitude at the scene is unnerving. There's something different going on with him, and I intend to find out."

Smiling like he got what he wanted. Without a word he walked out of the room, delightedly phasing through the wall. Exactly three strides.

Integra sat, staring at the wall for a moment before turning her attention back to her desk. With Alucard alone on the case, all she needed to do was wait.

* * *

Lights flashed in the night air from every direction. Bright neon "Open" signs, street lamps and the like, mostly. Ernest trudged along, holding his hand in front of his face, pulling his newsboy hat lower over it. It was his hometown, after all. The last thing he needed was someone recognising him… even if it was after dark, and it was unlikely anyone he knew was out and about anyway.

Seras walked beside him, slowly moving her gaze around, a slightly bored look in her eye. "Are you sure you have any idea where we're going?" she asked quietly.

"Of course I'm sure, this isn't my first time in London." he answered, slightly annoyed. It did sort of feel like the road was stretching on longer than usual. The store they were looking for should be just around the the next bend…

Seras focused her red eyes on him. "Hmm, I suppose I shouldn't complain, anyway. Integra doesn't let me leave the mansion much except on missions anyway. Getting the okay to treat you was a good excuse." Smiling her optimistic grin of hers, she patted him on the back.

'_Like a child… even as a vampire, you can't escape that...'_ Ignoring his thoughts, Ernest beamed at his female companion. "I did manage to hit one through the heart yesterday. At least twice. I'm improving, at least."

"Slowly, slowly, slowly…"

"Hmph, I'll still catch up to you within the year!"

"Ha! Somehow I doubt you're going to get through police training with that scrawny build!" she raised her hand in triumph. A few odd looks from the people around them, but who really was there to care?

Ernest was caught a little bit off guard. 'You went through police training?" Ernest realized he knew very little of his ally's pasts. In all honesty they were as much of a mystery as the existence of vampires in the first place.

Seras regarded him a moment. "I forgot that a person doesn't just meet you knowing your entire history for a moment. Yeah, I was in the police force for a while before turning." she looked up as she talked, as if remembering something painful.

If there was one thing Ernest praised for himself it was his ability to notice when someone was having inner problems, and somehow knowing on spot what caused them, and how to help. "You were forced into vampirism like me, then?" He felt a small sense of glee at this realization, knowing he at least had someone else in a similar situation to his.

"No, where'd you get that idea?" Her confused look confused Ernest himself.

"Oh, well, um, I-I kinda just assumed. I saw your pained look when you were looking up and thought, um, well-"

He was cut off by a hearty laugh from his side. Seras nearly had a tear in her eye (That is to say, a little red drop of blood on her eyelid) from her little fit. "Oh, that wasn't it at all. Good try, though." she thumped his back lightly with her gloved palm. "No, no, I chose to join the undead myself. Well, kind of had a choice in the matter, anyway. Alucard shot me through the chest to get at an enemy using me as a human shield. It was either this or die, and I wasn't quite in the mood for giving up."

Ernest was stunned for a moment before speaking again. "Oh, s-so, if you chose this then what was the look? Surely things turned out just fine and dandy."

The drop of blood from the laughter grew a bit until it fell down her cheek. She stopped walking and stood there for a moment, remembering something about her past. "W-well, I had a lot of friends in the police force with me. Good men, they were. You see, we were dispatched to arrest a priest in my town under charges for suspected murder. Of course, at that point we didn't really know he was a vampire, so we stormed the place and he… he killed them all." she stared into space for a moment. "No survivors. Not a single one."

Ernest noted the unspoken final part. '_Not even me.'_.

She raised her sleeve to her face and wiped off the bloody tear. Her frown morphed into a kind of pained smile. "At least now I can avenge them, in a way. The low-class vampire that killed them was exterminated, but there are still more out there. I may be part of the undead, but still, even if it's just a part of me clinging to my humanity, I don't want anyone else to die like that. Heh. Even if I'm one of the ones capable."

Ernest resisted the urge to clap at her short speech. She had been carrying the deaths of her comrades around for more than thirty years… Ernest couldn't seem to imagine himself doing the same. A thought occurred to him suddenly. "What's your real name?" he inquired.

Seras' confused look returned to her young looking face. "My real name? Seras Victoria. You knew that."

"You mean you don't have an alias like mine? I thought everyone in Hellsing did…" He was glad all this correcting was going on then instead of at the mansion. He'd once admitted he didn't really know the family tree in front of all his grandparents and gotten the weirdest looks in response, not to mention the ridicule. No doubt assuming things like aliases in front of Alucard was a bad move.

"Oh, that would seem the case to you, wouldn't it? No, none of us do. You're actually the only one that does. I imagine the thought is this: I have no family, and no one would mourn my passing, so it doesn't matter. Although because of the circumstances of my death, no one needs to know that I died, and so I carry on with my real name. You, on the other hand, would cause problems if anyone were to recognize you. Too many family members, too many connections, and most of all: They watched you die. No one witnessed my death but Alucard himself. Yours was nothing but messy. Messy, messy, messy…" Seras explained, holding a finger up in the air, eyes perked at being able to help him organize his mind.

"All of my assumptions tonight are flat out wrong. I need to rethink my li-" he'd been about to say "life" before catching himself, realizing that just wasn't the right term to use. "Death, maybe?"

Seras snickered, gloved hand at her mouth. "I'd imagine. Is this it?" Ernest turned back to reality to register what she was talking about. He had led them directly outside a small shop. A music shop to be exact.

Because of his newly gained "skill" with guns, Seras claimed she'd been able to convince Integra to let him go buy some books for his music. More likely she'd begged the old woman's ear off until she lost her mind and allowed it. "Oh yes, this is it." he answered.

They walked inside, Ernest holding the door for Seras as he'd been taught to do. Along with proper speech, how could one be sophisticated without holding _doors_? As he'd remembered, the shop was full of instruments and music books. He'd just grab a few, and then they'd be heading back to the mansion.

"This one looks interesting." Seras noted, picking the music book off the shelf. After reading the cover for the listed songs she handed to Ernest to examine.

"Well, it seems you do have a good eye!" The book she had handed him was a rather large book of Broadway pieces. The song list included quite a few that he knew how to play already. Ernest fingered through the pages to see if they were the same arrangements as the ones he had learned. If they weren't it didn't matter much, he could relearn them, but that would be rather inconvenient. "And it seems I know how to play most of this as well. I'll just pay for this then..."

They paid for the book and left the store. Walking back down the street towards the direction of the mansion in silence, Ernest whistled to himself.

Seras took to standing silently for a few minutes staring at the stars. You would think after seeing nothing but night sky for years upon years a person would grow tired of it, but if there were cloud watchers in the world, it was no wonder a vampire would have star-gazers.

"Seras," Ernest spoke. He just remembered something that had been picking at him since his death.

"Hmm?"

"W-would it be alright if, um, if we… visited my grave?"

Seras stared incredulously at him, mouth slightly open. One fang completely exposed, it was more or less actually a cute face she was making. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be too bad. As long as we don't take long enough to make Sir Integra angry, it won't be a problem."

Ernest smiled his own sad smile, even if it did merely consist of one lip stretching to the side, and the other being raised only slightly less than normal. He knew where it would be, if nothing else. St. John's graveyard. The only thing that would take a long time would be finding the grave itself.

The graveyard was quiet as they entered, nothing more than a few crows cawing, and a cat sleeping silently on top of a tombstone. Under the light of the crescent moon, it was more or less illuminated to a regular human, not to mention a vampire with eyes meant to see in the dark.

Ernest nodded silently to himself and he walked around checking the ground for patches of recently disturbed earth. That would be where he was. His funeral was less than a week behind him, there was no way the ground returned to normal. There was no telling how Hellsing had managed to have a box buried with no one in it. Probably told the family something had gone wrong and they shouldn't open the box. Sounded like something they would do, and something his parents would fall for.

Seras nodded at him and walked off in her own direction, checking the stones as she went. It was interesting. The names of people who had died long before, nothing left of their memory but a few church records and a weathered rock.

Graveyards were entirely different when one was already dead.

When a mortal walked through one they generally thought only of their own mortality, knowing one day they'd be in the exact same place, rotting with the worms. Ernest had been a vampire a week and it was a noticeable difference for him. There was no fear of his own mortality, merely reflection of his possession of the opposite. He couldn't die now, at least, not as easily. He would live until eternity ended. Heh. And now he had Hell to look forward to when that point finally came. No doubt there was a point when all vampires regretted the decision they'd made. Except maybe Alucard.

'_No,'_ Ernest thought '_Death isn't even an option anymore. No chance for salvation, no chance for a quick, painless death. All that remains for a vampire is future pain.'_ That's what vampirism was, after all. Delaying the inevitable as long as possible. And then by delaying it, you only made it worse for yourself.

Surely somewhere in God's heart there was something for him. Something he could do. God couldn't possibly be that unfair… could he? There had to be a way to save himself after that. He hadn't even made the choice to become a vampire. There had to be something for him, something out there that could help.

These weren't thoughts for the moment.

"I found it!" Seras' voice range out and echoed over the gloomy, dark expanse of the graveyard. Weeping willow's branches blew in the wind, whistling ever so slightly. the cat was out and about again, stalking an unseen prey. Some unfortunate rodent to be sure.

Ernest made his way to her, knowing what lie in store.

He looked at her pokerface, a forlorn look inhabiting his own. Shaking his head back and forth he finally looked to the ground. Peppered marble, notably new.

**Ernest Jay Hunt**

**2029-2044**

Falling to his knees, he sat down, head hanging low in front of his own grave. This was the seal of his fate. A person with a tombstone was meant to have already reached judgement, yet he was still there, there moving, still thinking, still lusting for life.

It meant something else as well. He had known it from the beginning, but only now did it hit full force. No one he knew would ever seen him again. He would never see them. His friends from before were another life. A better life. An existence that wasn't completely cursed.

That's what he was.

Damned to Hell for eternity, and nothing in his arsenal to save him.

He'd heard it somewhere before. What he was doomed to. Loneliness was a deathly illness. This was only the beginning of his punishment, too.

As Seras stood, completely still, not daring to make a move in any way behind him, Ernest slowly, quietly, and without shame, poured his own blood down his face, eyes streaming.

There was no Hope.

* * *

**Hmm... That chapter was supposed to be a tear jerker, but re-reading it, I don't think it worked very well... I might rewrite that later.**

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**Altarial Kane: Yes, I'm aware of this. However in Dracula, which is Hellsing's backstory, they did turn to dust. This was also convenient for me, so I went with it.**

**Jasdevi's Secret Sissy: Thank you!**

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**Thank you all for your support! And with that~**

**Adieu!**


	8. Death Threats

**I had in mind next Wednesday, but what the heck, I was excited for this chapter. I now have the entire story planned out to the minute. Enjoy this wonderful bit of it. NOTE: I'm gonna act like a Jew for a moment (I'm not being racist, this is a historical fact, you weirdos) and say Thursday doesn't begin until sunrise, so posting this at 2 in the morning is PERFECTLY fine. Right? Right? Ugh... just... just read...**

* * *

The incredible thing about the writing, was that it answered every question he had, just as he asked it. Except this one, which seemed to have him searching for days on end to find.

Blake Casimir sat on a tombstone with his prized possession: These papers he was so fortunate to find.

A chill wind blew around him like water slowly trickling through a stream. It blew his hair just out of place, requiring him to adjust it with his hand every few seconds. Trees bent around him, their eery arms stretching out, but his body just out of reach for them to grab hold. Looking up from his reading, he craned his neck to side, stretching the sore muscle he had so abused spending so long looking straight down. Returning to his research documents, he noticed a spider beside his arm. A large one at that, about the size of his palm. Brown legs that extended surely the size of his own fingers.

"I wonder…" the scientist muttered to himself. "If my knowledge can control the dead, could it possibly extend to… non-humans?" chuckling, he lifted his hand slowly, as to not scare away his new specimen. "You just stay right there…"

SPLAT!

And just like that, the world was down one spider. Blake stood, papers in hand, and walked exactly three steps away from the crushed arachnid. He put his hand to the papers for a moment, trusting that surely this would work. In an instant he moved, staring intensely at the spider, hand slightly extended, pointing at it. With a little more honing of his senses, he might be able to…

It twitched. It was small, but the spider definitely twitched. Although, a movement so slightly could have very possibly been the wind. This would require more focus. Blake breathed slow, deep breaths, clearing his mind of anything but controlling this one dead spider.

He stood there for minutes before he finally got a result. The spider's leg moved, ever so slightly, but definitely moving, and moving freely at that. Unfortunately, it was the only art he seemed to be able to move…

He reflected for a moment. If he could move the leg, he should be able to move the entire spider. This was obvious! The only problem would be… "That must be it," he mused to himself in the darkness of the lonely night. "I crushed the spider. Its exoskeleton has been rendered useless except in that one place. Without the bodily means to move as I wish, it is physically impossible to do." He decided firmly. Though it was a good hypothesis, it would need to be tested more before he could say for sure. It might simply be that non-humans were harder to control. If he knew he could control dead humans from his test in Elm Street, he would simply need one thing: A dead human with all his bones crushed.

What grotesque things he was willing to do for the sake of science.

He smiled at his own musings. That was what he was driven by, after all. A thirst for knowledge, putting together the puzzle for the rest of humanity. For things to move forward, someone had to get their hands dirty.

He looked at his papers once more and smiled gleefully at them. It was a true miracle he came across them in the chaos that was the London Nazi attack.

Of course, it had been pinned on terrorists to the rest of the world, but he was of a select few that knew the attack's true nature. He had witnessed it. He had witnessed the horror, the massacre, the fear, the anguish, the pain, the torture, the blood, the gore, the fighting, the defenseless being mowed down, throats ripped out, and left to rot. He had witnessed first hand the death, the destruction, the fire, the chasing, the helplessness, the malice of the Nazis, and the horrors they entitled.

It was beautiful.

Not the massacre in itself, no. Humans could not advance if there were none left. But the event in itself. Vampires. They were there. They existed. More importantly, they were immortal!

If they hadn't been there, he wouldn't have been able to freely explore the dead city of London. It seemed the fighting lasted a lifetime, but he endured. He hid and endured. When it became quiet he left his hiding place and searched thoroughly. He wasn't sure what drove him to do it, but he'd entered the crashed zeppelin. He'd seen what was inside.

Two dead men, bloodied on the floor, and a skeleton strapped to a wall. A desk on which sat, albeit in disarray, his precious papers.

He smiled at the Swastika stamped on the first page. It meant progress.

It was humorous, he found, that the Nazis had found the papers. They had been wiped from the earth. They had tried to progress in the wrong way. These papers were written by a genius, to be sure. To have realized the full potential of the undead!

No.

No, the writer, this Doc character as the author had signed his name, was no genius at all. Or at least, not the kind Blake Casimir needed. Doc was creating the ultimate weapon, the ultimate fighting machine. For war. Blake wanted none of that. He wanted humanity to end its suffering, not add to it.

One man's failures helped the next poor sap that came across them, after all. These papers presented how to make a vampire, how to make oneself immortal! Beyond human comprehension! Records of an army of one thousand vampires! And Blake believed it. If he hadn't seen it, he wouldn't have, but he did. There was no way in Hell he couldn't… that is to say, at that time there was no way in London.

But he had taken the Doc's research and perfected it! The point wasn't making the dead… it was raising the dead. The one thing humans sought throughout history, never able to find. The Philosopher's Stone. The one thing that could make a man immortal, to live forever. It was fear of the unknown that drove this primal need, fear of death, fear of agony, fear of the void!

Fear of God. Fear of judgement. Fear of Hell.

Yes, that is what Blake could offer now. He could offer freedom from the void! He could offer freedom from the pain! He could offer liberation from the God that damned poor souls to Hell for not knowing any better!

Well, no. Not for not knowing any better. They simply chose not to. But still… he offered them a second chance. No, not even a second chance… the _ultimate_ chance. He would relieve their worry forever Not with some stone, or drink, or miracle substance!

With science.

With technology.

The Vampire Chip the doc spoke to happily about in his writing was something that could make an artificial vampire. In exchange for drinking blood, they gained almost unlimited power. Blake did not want Vampires. That was moving in the wrong direction. He wanted to free humanity from pain, not make some give pain to avoid their own. That was something he could not wish on the world. What he worked on doing was raising the dead permanently.

No.

He could not offer immortality just yet. Not yet. He needed more time. He needed to complete his research. Elm Street proved that. He couldn't raise the dead to be better than their living state, he raised them to be nothing but mere zombies. Hell, he couldn't even control them. He'd tried and they did naught but attack him. Hiding in the top of a house was a good cover, but he was actually unsure what he would have done if they had found him. It was a terrifying prospect to be sure. But science was always dangerous unless one took the proper precautions, so he simply shrugged it off and promised himself never to do something that risky again. Next time he'd start in the top of a building, instead of running in fear into one, where they could follow.

It was pure luck that a couple of vampires had dropped in on him. It offered a new opportunity. It offered new tests that he simply had to wait patiently to put in motion.

He knew the name Seras Victoria. Doc had written about a girl of that name. He wrote that she was a new recruit of Hellsing organization, which was bizarrely not expanded upon nearly enough for Blake's liking, but Doc had not managed to mention she was a vampire as well. Simply a fantastic fighter.

Even so, it was good she was in the ranks of the undead. It made his life much easier. They made a good decoy, and he doubted his raised zombies (Ghouls, as Doc had a tendency to call such creatures) would be able to kill them. Instead he'd wait and test a new theory on them later. He needed Seras Victoria and her little group alive… or at least alive as a vampire could be.

Blake rose from his reflection, and returned his attention to the crushed spider. Nothing much had changed. The leg had completely fallen off in the wind, rendering it completely useless to him. It was enough for the night anyway. He'd figured out enough. Even if his initial question was left unanswered, he'd learned a great deal more. Perhaps next time he'd be able to raise a more… complete person. Return their soul to their body… Yes. That was his goal. To completely return, reconstruct, and repurpose a dead body. Then he could duplicate the chip in his head that allowed this, and give them to others. There was business in this, even. A new job! Whenever a person died, there were others that got paid a good sum of money to bring them back… it would be a hit! Although, mortuaries and the like would take a hit.

Oh well.

Not every plan was perfect, he decided.

* * *

"Sir, there are people requesting a meeting with you." the voice over the intercom in Integra's office spoke quickly. The aged woman woke with a start, face red from being pressed against her desk. She must have fallen asleep while working… oh what age does to the body. At a good fifty-five years of age, perhaps she could get away with it, though. Her voice betraying her irritation at being disturbed, she answered.

"Who, exactly?"

"Chief Makube of the Vatican, Section Thirteen." was the rushed answer. For some reason the man guarding the entrance was hurried. Or perhaps he was just anxious of Integra's annoyance at being called on by Iscariot. It was a well known fact that she hated each and every meeting she was required to have with them, and none were too pleasant from the Vatican's point of view either. No doubt the guard simply didn't want to be caught in the middle of such a kerfuffle.

Integra sighed. Whatever it was, she knew the relationship was hanging by threads as it was between Hellsing and The Vatican. Even if they'd stopped trying to take over, neither party particularly liked the other. No doubt refusing a meeting would only make them more pretentious in the future. With an undignified groan, she spoke in answer. "Send them in."

This was already a dreadful day, there was no reason to add The Vatican in on top of the mountain. No information had been gathered about the location of the mysterious Blake Casimir. Alucard returned empty handed. She hadn't seen the vampire as annoyed as he was since before the London Blitz. Failure, after all, was not something he was accustomed to.

"Hello, Integra!" the door of her office swung open unceremoniously. Banging loudly against the wall behind it, Integra was sure it would leave a dent in the molding. Makube, who had entered her office, was more than likely not to care in the slightest. He turned and looked back at his doings. "Oh, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, it seems your wall might need a bit of damage repair, no? You can't have such a… wonderful mansion fall into disrepair." he laughed his cackle, but soon quieted down and sat in the chair opposite her.

Behind him stood man- no, woman- dressed in priests outfit. Bandages adorned her face, completely covering the majority of her face. Blonde hair scruffed out the top of the bandages, covering her head. Heinkel Wolfe stood guard over her new boss.

Makube himself had only grey hair on his head, two strands of which fell in front of his face. It seemed said face was forever doomed to hold a kind of disdainful expression. Eyes always downcast, and mouth in a half smile, as if he were remembering something beloved from his past. A red scar ran down his cheek to his neck, only adding to the forlorn effect.

Integra disregarded his rude entrance and laid her wrinkled hands on her desk. "What is it you want, Chief Makube of Iscariot, District Thirteen?" her formal addressing of him countering his own use of her full name.

"Me wanting something? From you?" his half smile became a frown of distaste. "If we could really want anything from a protestant. No, we came to give to the poor. You know it's something we adore doing." Heinkel grunted behind him, displeasure in every move she made.

Integra scowled, but sat back in her chair. A grin slowly formed on her face. "And what is it we would want to accept from catholics?" she retorted.

Makube feigned a hurt look. "Dealing punches hard as always. One thing that age doesn't seem to be able to take away from you, hm?" he smiled truly at his own victory in the small battle. Integra grunted, but she knew his poke at her own body beginning to fail was completely true.

"And yet, my own servant at least seems to be able to hold out under my control. I don't believe I've ever seen Alucard with a bandage." she grinned at her slick defeat.

The forlorn look returned. "You have me there, I suppose. Heinkel just can't match up to your _vampire_."

Heinkel's eyes grew wide for a moment before she glared at Makube. She didn't dare say a word, but the look of loathing was enough. She was not enjoying her new boss. Shifting where she stood, Heinkel shifted her gaze to Integra, who merely smirked in a different direction, refusing to acknowledge Iscariot's new hound.

Makube's expression grew serious. "But truly, I do have information you may want to know." His hands were white as the tightly gripped the side of the table. Whatever he had to say excited him.

Integra leaned forward and smirked directly in his face. "Try me."

Makube's lips drew near Integra's wrinkled ear. He whispered, ever so lightly: "Legion is waiting like a venomous snake against you."

It was a threat.

Integra's eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. "And if they make their move, we'll bring them down like we did Enrico Maxwell. Not even an entire army can go against us with Alucard at our side." If Legion was against Hellsing, that meant Hell was going to be raised, and knowing their impatient nature: soon.

Makube chuckled in response. "I don't doubt it, but I will tell you this: Between the London Blitz thirty years ago, added to this recent rise in vampire attacks, I don't think you'll be waiting very long for them to make their move. Can you handle that?"

"We are always at the ready. Legion is the least of our worries right now. We will show them who they'll be messing with." her conviction was strong, but her raspy voice betrayed her meaning. Even if they were strong, no one would buy it coming from an old woman, long past her prime. Integra at this age was much less threatening than the Integra of thirty years in the past.

"Oh, Legion is the least of your worries, but what of the most? What is on the top of your priority list? Last I heard it was a Blitz survivor… Blake Casimir was his name?"

Integra quickly took in a breath. The Vatican wasn't supposed to know about that. The records had not yet been sent in. The due date for collaboration was days away, as per their agreement. "You've been spying on us."

"And we're not the only ones. Legion has their own set of Americanos running around London as we speak."

"I don't doubt it. It matters not anyway. We have everything under perfect control. Even if they're against us, they can't attack without a reason. Legion doesn't have heretic crusades like you do. They're merely power hungry."

"And is that any less of a problem, I ask?"

Integra was silent. "We have Blake Casimir under control. Once we find him we can figure out what he's hiding."

"They key there is 'Once we find him'. You don't know his location, and you're showing no signs of finding it in the near future. Legion interprets that as weakness, you know."

The implications were obvious. The weak are meant to serve the strong, that is the way of the world. That is their code. That was how they worked. If Hellsing showed any weakness, they would be infiltrated in a matter of minutes.

"Listen, you catholic pig, Blake Casimir is close to being found. He won't be a problem much longer. I have a feeling if we find him it's a hop and a skip until we can st-" Integra was cut off mid-sentence by Heinkel aiming a pistol at her chin.

"You," the bandaged woman began. "You little protestant bitch, you will not talk to the head of Iscariot as such. I don't care a thing about this Blake Casserole bastard. I have half a mind to kill you now before you get the chance to."

"And what if I said I felt the same way?" Alucard phased instantaneously through the wall, showing up in all his red glory. "If you continue to point a gun at my master's head, I will take great pleasure in having your own mounted on my wall. Minus a few bandages, of course. I'd rather like to see the complete monstrosity that is your face. It makes me feel better about putting you out of you misery… no that I really care in the first place." Alucard's furious gaze looked down upon the regenerator his height making him all the more intimidating.

Makube evidently thought that was as far as their exchange needed to go. "Okay, Heinkel, down girl. That's enough threatening for one day. Besides, we have enough on our plates as it is. Planning with Legion and all."

Integra's eyes widened for the second time during the conversation, but turned to anger just as quickly. Standing, she slammed her hand on the desk and shouted. "You're plotting with the stupid Americans?!" malice dripped palpably from her words.

Makube grew a confused expression. "Did I say that? No, no, no, we're not _with _them. I simply have a feeling. I feel obligated to warn you. After all, you are our dearest ally." The sarcasm in his voice was just as clear as Integra's rage. "No, I simply feel we will be in the near future. Considering the views of my predecessor, Enrico Maxwell. The Pope has not changed since then, and I do feel without a doubt that he will command Iscariot to assist Legion, however bad they may be. Even if they're as heretical as you, smearing Hellsing off the planet will put one less problem off our plate. Then we deal with Legion, and it's back to how it should be."

Integra nodded. She was used to such thinking from them, it didn't surprise her any longer. "They'll plan around that. They know you'll do the same thing to them should they succeed."

Makube nodded. "Yes, but would they care? You know the Americans are power hungry fools. They'll assume if they grow in power enough they'll be able to overtake Iscariot should the event occur… or even beforehand. Hah! They don't realize what they'd get themselves into." Makube smiled at the thought, probably of obliterating Legion himself.

After the Nazi attack on London thirty years prior, America itself had taken notice to the problem of vampires. They began their own elite Vampire Fighting Unit called Legion. Like the Vatican used Judas Iscariot, the man who betrayed Jesus as their name for fighting the unholy by unholy means, America went with a similar approach. Legion, the group of one thousand demons that possessed one man. Fighting evil with evil was what vampire exterminating was in both group's views.

Hellsing saw it as merely the logical approach.

Legion quickly grew in power and influence, as the power-hungry Americans tended to do. No doubt they simply wanted to achieve the same goal as Iscariot and control the entire world's vampire exterminating: Only instead of for religious reasons, it was purely for the sake of it. It was a disgusting violation of the agreement to attack Hellsing and take over, but in the world as it was, Integra wasn't surprised at all.

Legion would need an excuse to take over or the government itself would get involved. An all out war would be something they wanted to avoid, as well as keeping the United Kingdom as an ally. To take over Hellsing, they'd need a reason.

"Ah, I can see from your face. You've arrived at the same conclusion as I." Makube said, smiling his half smile.

"They want us to fail. If Hellsing shows a moment of weakness, they have their excuse to invade. Should that happen, Iscariot will join them and Hellsing will be done for. Or at least, until Alucard gets involved. Then none of you stand a chance."

"They don't believe that, and they're willing to risk the chance of a full-out war to achieve their ends. Collateral means nothing to the fat american pigs. You call me one, but even I know a fat, spoiled barn animal when I see one, and America is it."

Integra's eyebrow was raised. "You don't like the plan?"

Makube smiled generously. "Iscariot is weak. I want to achieve our goals as much as Enrico, but he left us weak. He acted too early, at the wrong time. If Hellsing gets overrun, Legion will immediately jump on Iscariot instead of the other way around. We don't stand a chance."

Heinkel shifted in displeasure. It was obvious she did not agree with Makube's views, but she was smart enough to hold her peace. Even one of Alexander Anderson's students was smart enough to to trifle with Alucard. Seras maybe, but Alucard was not something she needed to play with.

Integra sat back in her chair, hands in her lap. "So that's the game. The Pope must not agree. He must think you have what you need to defend yourselves or go on the offensive. You can't go against the Pope's orders no matter how you want to, correct?"

"Correct. I trust you're satisfied with the information?" he held out his hand to her.

Integra smiled unpleasantly and returned the gesture, shaking his hand. "You may have saved many lives."

"How horrible my accident."

* * *

The lights never turned off. Not a single time. The only time Ernest found the world was dark was when his eyes were closed. There was the sun, shining its warm rays on the world, making everything visible to the human eye. There was the moon illuminating the sleeping earth. In a dark room with no windows or lamps, such as his bedroom, he saw light as day.

This wouldn't be so much of a problem if it were easier to sleep. Even as a vampire, Ernest found it near impossible to sleep with light.

Fortunately, this was not the problem he faced at the moment. At the moment he sat on his bed (a glorified coffin) with a bucket of ice in front of him. He had seen buckets as such before: his father was a member in a local lodge. At the lodge's pool every summer ice buckets filled with beers. Never before had he seen one of these buckets filled with medical blood.

Ernest had taken to drinking blood mere days after turning. Not once had he had the chance to drink a person's blood from their body, but then again; why would he want to? A constant supply of medical blood for him, and if he ever just went and fed off a person on his own Hellsing would have to exterminate him. No reason to go against his job description.

Seras had told him she was amazed at how quickly he took to it. She said she herself went weeks after turning without drinking a drop because the horror of the notion. Ernest admittedly found a conversation about drinking blood uncomfortable. Talking about other people's life as a food source; which it was.

Still, he would do it. Hunger was a hard thing for him to ignore. Even on his first mission on North Elm all he could think about was the smell of blood around him. It was overpowering. He was starving in a desert for weeks only to come upon a feast, where he could still touch nothing. Honestly it was a little of a let down.

He looked down in his lap shaking his head, smiling. He really was a monster. Not a powerful, dangerous monster like Alucard, not the kind he claimed could only be killed by humans, just a monster in the general sense of the term. Inhuman. Grotesque. Lifeless. Amazing just how quickly it happened. One day his favorite food was made by the local hotdog vendor, and now the only food he could eat _was_ the local hotdog vendor. The tables had turned.

Gripping the blood bag in his hand, he fingered the flap on top, trying to fit a straw into it. The automatic urge was to simply bite the bag, but it didn't take a genius to realize that would simply bust it. Like spilling soup on the floor. Finally achieving his goal, he began to drink. Heh. It was a good thing he wasn't picky. It had the consistency of a cold tomato soup, but tasted like a flat soda. It actually wasn't near the best thing he had ever tasted. It was not so much flavorful than addictive. He quickly learned that once you had a taste it was hard to stop. It was hard to put it down.

Suppressing a chuckle, he finished the first bag. He tossed the empty medical bag into the trashcan and picked up the next, trying his best to poke a straw into its opening.

Monster indeed.

* * *

_"He's progressing quickly, isn't he?"_ Pip Bernadotte whispered in Seras' mind. The walls of cement around her seemed tinted green in the darkness. She reclined on her back in her coffin, arms behind her head. Pip Bernadotte, her one and only familiar, stole the opportunity to have a conversation. It was rare that he got a moment to speak with her, so he jumped at the chance whenever they arose. The Frenchman was a part of her. After his death during the London Blitz she had drained him at his request to keep him with her. His soul was a part of hers, they were intermingled. Unfortunately, his voice was only heard when there was nothing else going on. It was like a conscience, whispering quietly to guide her, or someone to talk to. She couldn't really turn him off, even if she wanted to (which up to now, had never even happened).

Seras smiled, glad to have a chance to talk to him again. With the recent rise in vampire attacks, it was hard for her to find a free moment to be alone. "Yeah, he is. Faster than me."

_"But is zat good for him?"_

This had occurred to Seras before Pip brought it up. No doubt he had taken notice. She wasn't able to hide anything from him. "I don't know. It is a little scary. He's letting go of his humanity very quickly. He's accepting everything, not questioning a beat. I'm sure Alucard's proud at any rate."

_"Is he? You may see him as a good mentor, but does anyone else have a relationship with zat man? You are his blood, he takes pride in you. Integra has earned his respect through work. Has ze boy done anything note worthy?"_

"Well, I suppose that's true at any rate…"

_"Alucard was angry with him on Elm Street, wasn't he? I don't think zis new recruit will last much longer."_

Seras sat up in her seat, leaning her back against the wall. "Alucard wouldn't kill him without orders from Integra. He doesn't kill anyone besides Schrodinger unless he's on a mission."

_"But what if he has orders?"_

Seras knew what Bernadotte was getting at. "He's a good kid. He knows what he has now is the best deal he's going to get. He wouldn't disregard orders."

_"You and me, Seras, we understand. I was a mercenary, you were a policeman. We understand orders as orders. I killed for money, and I got killed for money… and a kiss, but zat's neither here nor zere. Anyway, I did what I was told to do regardless of the why. Why did I kill the citizens of a revolting country? Because the government paid me. Why did I join Hellsing? Because you paid me."_

"I get it, you love money."

_"Let me finish. You followed orders to follow your dad's footsteps, and you knew what you were doing. You learned to do as you were told regardless of the why."_

Seras was shocked for a moment. "I never told you why I joined the police."

_"Ah, you forget, Seras, my memories are your memories, and yours are mine. I can see everything you see, and I can see everything you've done."_

She closed her eyes and smiled. Pip really was someone she could talk to about anything. A person who knows everything about you and still wants to be a part of you. This was why she was careful about drinking non-medical blood. If she drank from too many people his voice would simply be drowned out in a sea of souls. Like Alucard was. Now he just had to deal with Schrodinger in his head for eternity.

_"Ernest, ze boy… he doesn't have the experiences zat you and I do. Nor ze blood. Alucard would bring you up right. He made sure you did as you should. If you stepped out of line you wouldn't be killed, you would be told off and given anozer chance. Ernest does not have zis luxury. If he steps a toe out of line he's done. Through. Kaput."_

Seras paused. She didn't have an answer. She was not Ernest's master. She could barely call herself a friend. He was new. They barely knew each other. He was still the wild card he had been from the beginning. But he was still her responsibility. If he went against orders he would be given a swift end to his short undead life, and everything would return to how it was. She didn't like the idea. She would feel the guilt of causing him pain needlessly. She could have put him out of his misery the moment he'd turned, but instead she decided to keep him alive. Why?

_"You're too merciful, Seras. He's going to mess up. It's not a matter of 'if' for a create like him, it's a matter of 'when'. He doesn't have restraint in his history. On ze battlefield he couldn't focus on the mission, but focused instead on the smell of food. If you hadn't put him in his place he would already be a lost cause. His bloodlust is too much."_

Seras had no reply.

_"You can feel him now. As can I. The presence of a feeding vampire. Just in the other room. He's probably in there sipping bag after bag. No restraint. I don't care if you want him around, Seras, but if you want him around longer than a few more days, keep him on a leash and don't let him loose. Do not let it slack. I know you, Seras, I know you better than anyone else on God's green earth. No one else will care about his passing, but you'll feel guilty. You'll feel guilty you caused zis boy pain, will you not?"_

"I-I-"

_"Will you not, Seras Victoria?!"_

Seras hung her head in her solitude. She would have forgotten about him had she let him die then. Pip was right with what he said. His was the blood descendant of a weapon for war. Violence and bloodlust was a part of a regular vampire, but his was… multiplied by the lineage. Even if it was diluted through generations of vampires, it remained within him. Ernest really was just a ticking time bomb.

_"So you realize zis. Seras, I'm sorry, but I don't want you to feel zat way. Zere is no wish in me zat wants you to be hurt in any way. I like Ernest too, I admit. He's a good kid. Simply dangerous."_

Seras arms shivered in her lap. Taking slow breaths, Seras regained her composure. Laying down, she closed the lid on her coffin.

* * *

John decided to keep the Spaniard around. He found him to be useful in all his investigations. The man was a great assistance in getting what he wanted. When Edward Earl first approached John Hawthorne the detective had ten cases to work on. With the assistance of Earl he was reduced to exactly two: The St. John Massacre and the North Elm Conflagration. Fortunately, even this was turned into one case. They were linked by murderers.

Many serial killers have their own marks, their own signs that they were the ones that committed this crime. It seemed this pair of killers used their bullets. Their very own specially designed bullets. Hawthorne ran them through tests to find out what they were made of. The results were surprising. Lead was not a factor in the bullets used in the murders. Instead they were made of a steel outer shell filled with silver. In one he found gun powder, and in the other mercury. Odd bullets in every sense of the word. There was not a gun in the world that would accept such a recipe, nor such a size. Obviously, this meant that the gun was custom too.

The original assumption was a custom gun and bullet would be easy to track. This was a wrong assumption. Every ammunition manufacturer, every gun designer, even the illegal black market suppliers claimed ignorance. Usually when faced with being reported these companies would spill the truth in moments. John was inclined for this reason to believe them.

This meant that the bullets were made by the killers themselves. For such expensive supplies they could not possibly be working alone, either. There had to be an organization behind them, supplying them with their tools.

Perhaps the mafia was making a comeback…

Even a week after the crime, North Elm was in no better shape than immediately after. With the police out of the equation, all that was left was construction workers rebuilding the destroyed neighborhood. Most of the bodies and severed limbs had been picked up, but if one looked hard enough they could find one hidden, stinking and rotting away.

_'Strange…'_ Hawthorne mused to himself. _'Bodies don't rot this quickly. It's as if the corpse has been here for weeks, not days… '_ The smell was the foul odor of a mortuary. Few stenches compared, although he had been in the presence of a corpse flower at one time. He'd decided never to go back.

"Have you found anything?" Earl called. He approached from across the street, striding quickly to his side. In exactly fifteen steps, he was standing beside the tired detective. He caught sight of the corpse John was examining, eyes widened for a moment before he closed them and stole a deep breath. "I'd imagine you have discovered something, considering you're staring so intently at a dead body."

"You forget to take into account the possibility I'm a necrophiliac." Earl's eyes nearly popped from his head, and he grasped his throat as if he was choking back the urge to puke. "But no, you're correct. I've found something. Don't pass off things you don't think are possible. Anything could be the truth, no matter how odd it may be. One may think the possibility impossible, but it very well may be true. Like the possibility of me being a necrophiliac."

Unable to bear thinking about it any longer, Earl held out his hand, stopping John from continuing. "I understand. Please don't talk about such… deplorable… subjects… anymore." Clearing his throat, Earl kneeled down beside the detective. "So what is it exactly that you've found?"

"This corpse. I want you to think about it a moment. You've been good at investigation so far, what say you about this corpse?"

"If you want me to say it's a very fine looking corpse, you're not going to get me to do it. It looks like any corpse out of any movie I've seen."

"How long have people been dead in movies you've seen?"

"I don't know. I don't usually pay attention to anything beyond the fact that it's a corpse. A few years, perhaps?"

"Hmph. While movies may not be the best source of information, I want you to think about that a moment. This corpse looks like a corpse that's been dead for a few years?"

Edward's face darkened. "What are you saying?"

"Do you know how fast a human body decomposes?"

"No, actually, I can't say I'm very experienced on that point. My apologies?"

"None needed. Dead bodies of people's parents are found dead in their home a week after their time of death. In some cases weeks. And yet even then… there is no rot, no mold on their exterior. Their insides may be gone to a point, but even then they still exist in a recognizable form. If I were to ask you if this were the body of your wife, would you be able to tell me?"

Edward looked offended, and scoffed in reply. "Well it's obviously not! This corpse is male, you can tell because the chest area and the bust of the lower body. They're shaped differently in the sexes."

"Good observation. No, I cannot say this corpse is your lost wife, but can you tell me anything past the fact that it's male?"

Edward opened his mouth meaning to say something, but stopped midsentence. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before he returned to the present. "He's been dead longer than the others?"

"No. No he's not. All the corpses are like this. They've been dead a week, and yet are in this rotted, unrecognizable form. Something else is at play here, it seems."

John stood and started walking off, tightening his belt as he went. His oversized clothes had started falling off his body. Edward stood and jogged to catch up to his companion.

"What such thing could cause a heightened pace of decomposition?" he inquired. It seemed no matter his deductive skill, he was unable to register what he considered impossible.

John continued walking, not even looking back as he answered the question. "There are many things that would speed up the rot. None of these were here. If this had been death by flood, it would be understandable. If bacteria had been involved, or a virus, or an outbreak or plague it would be understandable. This fire made it too hot for bacteria to survive throughout the entire conflagration, which would slow decomposition rates. If the corpse wasn't directly in the fire, it went untouched… except its flesh. You'll notice, despite slowed decomposition rates, some corpses are missing limbs or parts of their flesh. And from the amount of rot, it doesn't look like it merely rotted faster than the rest either. It seems pieces of the bodies were completely removed from the remains."

"We already know the killers are psychopaths. Perhaps they cut them off themselves. I wouldn't put it past such monsters."

"No, there are too many. We know from St. Johns this pair doesn't stay long enough to play. They kill and leave. This was done by an outside factor."

"They changed."

"Unlikely."

"You said yourself even if it was unlikely, it's possible. Like the possibility that the criminals changed their style." Edward smiled, proud of himself.

Hawthorne looked back at his friend and smiled that same proud smile in return. "Close, but no. They use the same bullets as before, their own special style and make. Nothing I've ever seen like it, nor any of my sources has seen. They haven't changed."

"They wanted to use up the ammunition that they had left."

"While possible, I can't agree. These are expensive materials used to make the bullets. It is very unlikely they have the ammunition in large supply unless they have a large organization behind them."

"Then why can't we assume that's the case?"

"Because no such organization exists at the moment. There would be records of previous killings if any company needed people gone. If a mafia group was growing it would be closer to the public eye: Underground, but just high enough to strike fear is how they work. The murders of children wouldn't make it a murder to help a large company trying to help their business. There is nothing that would help. And there's still one other thing I can't make sense of."

Edward paused a moment to gather the facts in his head. After a moment he spoke. "What is that?"

"I ran DNA tests on a few of the bodies. More than a few have been dead for more than two years."

* * *

**Mmmm, I adored that with my entire being. This chapter excited me, despite the lack of action. **

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	9. Inexorable Control

The brisk air of the winter night made even Ernest as a vampire shiver as they walked through the cemetery. Gravestones of varying ages crept by, withering from years of erosion. A few had weeds growing on their tops, near crumbling in disrepair. The hoot of an owl signalled its presence in the trees, no doubt searching thoroughly for its next meal. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, illuminating their path as best it could. Dew that had settled on the ground glistened in the starlight, as if Ernest walked across the galaxy himself.

Seras walked beside him, almost uncomfortably close. A determined glare inhabited her eyes, mouth curved down in an unpleased frown. The facade of an arm that she used was completely gone, a black and red glowing, chaotic, formless void left in its wake, whipping wildly through the air as if daring something to come within striking range. It was evident she meant business this time. No playing around, no hiding from mortals. This was a mission she would not return from empty handed. Determination apparent, she hastened over their path, never even glancing to the side of their destination.

Alucard paced lazily behind the two younger vampires. Surely he was just as irritated with their opponent as Seras, but he would never show it. He was more than likely enjoying the difficulty that had made itself known after Blake Casimir's first appearance. Delighted smile overtaking his face, topped with his orange tinted sunglasses, wide-brimmed blood red hat above it all. His feet hit the ground with a _slap_, his large shoes disturbing the settled water as he walked.

Schrodinger was nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, Ernest hadn't seen much of the cat-boy in a few days, but he wasn't too worried about it. As long as the boy's soul was bound to Alucard, he could never cause any problems. He was probably up in the top of one of the trees, watching with glee at the scenes below. Like a movie. That was probably how Schrodinger saw most things, after all. Since he couldn't really die, nothing was a risk; just a pastime.

The group had been dropped off in a cemetery a few miles from London. A gravedigger reported strange figures walking through the yard like zombies: needless to say, Hellsing swooped in, its large wings enfolding the entire case. Alucard spoke, breaking the voiceless natural noises of the night. "There are no vampires near. It's him."

Seras did not speak in response. Only a small nod of acknowledgment that the elder vampire had spoken. Not slowing her pace, she continued her pursuit. She could sense the presence of the human that the mission pivoted on. Blake Casimir was in the cemetery somewhere. He could not have chosen a better battleground either. After his last spectacle, it was doubtful he would go with them easily. He would have to be forced. Worst case scenario, killed to avoid further damage to the public.

Alucard no doubt had his fingers crossed for the latter.

"I don't understand why he's such a big deal, still. He was lucky to escape Elm Street, what makes you all think he's that important?" Ernest inquired. He hated being in that dark on any subject, so being kept out of the inner circle of Hellsing irked him to no end. All he wanted was to know exactly what was going on, but it seemed he was not ranked high enough in the organization to include him on those meetings.

Alucard's smile faded, replaced on his chin with an annoyed grimace. His disliking of Ernest asking questions was no secret to anyone. Whether or not he felt the same about anyone else asking was unknown to the boy: he had never witnessed anyone else asking him a question. Perhaps that had something to do with it… "Orders are orders, boy. If Sir Integra says to kill the pope, we kill the pope. This one man is nothing to be questioned about her motives. Although, I must respect the question. I heard once that there was no such thing as a stupid question. I quite agree. Just stupid people asking them." Malice lacing his voice, Ernest shivered as a cold chill ran down his spine.

He nodded. Alucard was not one to be trifled with when he was annoyed...or happen for that matter. Behind that entertained smile that had returned to his ever-gleeful face was a monster of wrath. Even if Ernest had never seen Alucard angry, his reputation and general aura was enough to convince anyone of the fact. He pivoted around on his heel to find himself pushed into a fleshy wall. Seras had stopped in front of him, eyes narrowed, slowly moving her head back and forth around her.

Around them sat a row of weathered, aged tombstones. The names were unreadable, and cracks were visible on their surface. The oldest spot in the cemetery was a force to be reckoned with: proof of just how long a person's memory could survive. Returning his eyes to Seras, she spoke, addressing both himself and Alucard. "He's in the mausoleum." Unlike her facial expression, her voice carried the blissful tone she normally spoke with. She eyed Ernest curiously for a moment. "Henry, you've been training, correct? I believe I instructed you to work on honing your vampiric senses. Tell me, what can you tell about our surroundings through smell?"

The reiteration of her instruction from North Elm less than surprised the boy. He had been expecting the teaching to come up at some point. He found it humorous that he had been promised an education from Alucard; it seemed Seras instructed him on how to be a proper vampire much more than the red clad monster.

Closing his eyes, Henry smelled the air. The dew on the ground spread serenity across his brain, filling his senses as the most common thing around him. It was quite the change from the smoke and ash of his last mission. Before everything was chaotic, this was… peaceful. But even the most beautiful scenes will have an imperfection. He could recognize the smell easily. The rotting flesh of a corpse, but moving. Not just one… there were many. It wasn't surprising, after all. That many ghouls around them in a cemetery. No, what was more interesting was the fact that they were completely surrounded in a large circle, not moving any closer towards them.

"Ghouls in every direction, but none are moving. Perhaps they've not noticed us?" he reasoned. Even if ghouls were technically a vampire's spawn, their senses were no more sharp than a three year old child's. It was entirely possible they were just biding their time until prey came within their range of perception.

Alucard's low voice rumbled the air as he spoke in response. "Ghouls do not stay still, even when there is nothing around to kill. They still wander around aimlessly in hopes of finding food. This circle is the will of their master." His voice projected confidence, no doubt to be seen as he spoke. The older vampire knew much more about the going ons of the world than Henry did, after all. Seras too, for that matter.

Confused, Henry's eyebrows shifted inward. "But Blake isn't a vampire, is he? He shouldn't be able to make ghouls, much less control them, right?" he inquired. The ghoul attack on Elm was a little convenient for Blake, but it was still a large question as to how exactly he did this. Ghouls popping up everywhere he appeared, it could not be coincidence. Somehow Blake was creating ghouls and setting them loose.

Alucard did not so much as let a glance down to Henry as he spoke. "It is an impossibility. Though, artificially creating an army of vampires to destroy London was also an impossibility. I've learned in over five hundred years of life that almost anything is possible." Henry looked down at the ground and nodded solemnly. Alucard's growl spoke again their instructions. "Seras, do a sweep of the perimeter. Take out all the ghouls. If he can truly raise the dead as he seems to be able to, the last thing we need is for the ring to close. I'm going into the mausoleum to deal with him myself." The vampire's blood eyes looked seriously at Henry. "You stay here. If any ghouls climb from the ground like they did last time, I want them dead before they can show their rotted faces. Schrodinger is watching from around here. If you get in a tight spot he'll alert either me or Seras." He paused for a moment before adding, "If he tells me, I might be preoccupied. Sorry if you die." Chuckling his sadistic laugh, Alucard looked around slowly. Hands in his pockets, and a malicious smile on his face, he made his way towards the stone tomb. He wouldn't be.

Lips turned downward in a grimace, Henry noted Alucard's remaining hostile attitude. It seemed the proud vampire Alucard had been while teaching him to shoot was a character of the moment. His opinion of Henry was perfectly clear on the field. Seras' head nodded at him once, her face expressing she knew how he felt before she jumped into the air. Her chaotic mass of an arm spread into wings of shadow, the dark angel flying off in pursuit of her own instructions.

Henry was conflicted about how he felt at his post. He was only to fight under specific circumstances, and he had a chaperone. A _chaperone._ Granted, he knew full well compared to Seras he was a weakling. Left to his own devices, Alucard would have left him alone, having Schrodinger under protection post was probably an order from Integra herself. Finding a comfortable looking tombstone (One with a flat top, like a table), he sat down and looked around himself at the peaceful night. The cool wind was showing no signs of lightening up any time soon, instead beginning to blow harder. Fallen leaves swirled from the gust that hit them head on, spinning circles just above the ground. He noted a small spider inching its way towards his hand, its eight legs moving slowly across the rock. Henry flicked it away, watching it soar through to air for a moment before smacking into a different stone and falling to the ground. It did not move.

Poor spider.

Toads croaked their noise in the trees, the overlapping shouting of the amphibians dominating most of what it was possible to hear. Henry had noticed as they had made their way to the site that every few steps another would jump as he came too close. The owl had gone silent from its earlier hooting in the trees. Either it had flown off, or it had spotted its next meal. A bird of prey swooping down on a poor, unsuspecting mouse, unable to fight for its life.

* * *

Alucard's hands scratched at the bottom of his deep pockets as he waltz into the mausoleum. Damp air discouraged breathing, every slight intake of air letting in the foul tasting, stagnant gases. A slight drip of water falling from the ceiling to the floor, and the smell of death in the air. Moss grew on the sides of the walls, unsurprisingly. Most of the corners were bathed in shadow, but that was no problem for a creature of the night. The red clad vampire spotted their target immediately.

"Mmmm, I thought you'd come, Mr. Alucard." Blake Casimir greeted, confident smile wide as a toad's on his face. His brown hair swayed slightly in the blowing air that the wind managed to circulate through the small stone tomb. Bespectacled brown eyes glowing in the dark, and clothes still exactly the same as when they had first met him; a white shirt covered by a dark brown vest, slightly lighter brown trousers, and light brown canvas shoes.

Alucard drew his hands out of his pockets and curled his fingers around each other, holding his own hand peacefully. A slightly amused smile inhabited his lower face, sunglasses covering the expressions of his eyes. "How could we refuse with such a warm welcome? You even had a welcoming committee!"

Blake laughed openly for a moment, hands moving to adjust his glasses. "The ghouls? Haha, yes, I thought you might like those treats. I think one of them out there used to be a clown, so I'm sure your comrades are disappointed you can't share in the fun."

"I'm sure I'll be joining them in a moment. Just some business to take care of in here." Alucard's hand reached into his jacket, opposite arm removing his sunglasses. Red eyes glowing in the moist night, Alucard pulled the _Casul _from his jacket, pointing the end directly at Blake's head.

Blake's smiled widened, staring at the gun in front of him. "Now what would be the fun in shooting me? Did I do anything wrong?" He reached out his hand and pushed the gun towards the ground. Alucard's smile faded for a moment as he considered just shooting the man in front of him then and there. "Do you not want to know _how_ I manage this?" His arms went out to his sides, gesturing to the rest of the room.

Blake knew he had an ace in the hole. Alucard's smile did not return, though neither did he frown. Simply a completely indifferent expression. "It's not my job to discover how you do these things. I was ordered to search and destroy. That is what I will do."

Blake stepped forward a three steps and placed his hand on Alucard's shoulder. Chuckling quietly to himself, he spoke. "Come with me, I'd be delighted to give a demonstration for you." Adjusting his glasses once more as he walked, Blake stepped all the way outside the stone building. He spotted Henry sitting on the tombstone a few yards away and chuckled some more. "Sentry duty for the new guy? I'm surprised he isn't out there helping your police friend exterminate my ghouls. There were a lot of them." Shaking his head, amused, Blake hopped on top of the nearest tombstone, balancing on the rounded top. He bowed, to Alucard, whose own amused smile had returned.

The vampire clapped his gloved hands slowly a few times, cheeks curling outward with his smile. "Your ghouls aren't putting up much of a fight. Even from here I can sense they're almost all gone. Seras Victoria is a capable fledgling."

Blake bowed his head and stared at the ground. "Quite. My poor, incomplete creations are no match for a full vampire, it seems…" He looked up to Alucard, a wild look in his eye. One arm pointed at the sky, and the other at Alucard, he nigh shouted suddenly. "Now, shall I tell you how I accomplish what I do?!"

"The drama is overkill. Tone it down."

"Hmph, quite." Blake cleared his throat, pulling the collar of his shirt away from his neck as if he were getting hot, even though it was sub fifty degrees in the night. "After following me here, you deserve it. You think you're going to stop me, even. Let me pose you this: Why stop a man doing good?" He hopped down off the tombstone, turning in mid-air. Landing with a hard _thump_, he found himself sprawled on the ground, laying on his back. He craned his head, and looked up towards Alucard. "I tried to do a flip. It turned out better in my head."

Alucard lazily clapped again, making no move to help the scientist stand. "If you keep up the dramatic acts, I might choose to just shoot you before you manage to break your neck.

"Duly noted." He stood and brushed his hands down his vest, shaking grass off of it. "As I was saying, why stop a man doing good for the world?"

Alucard extended his palm outward slightly towards the man. "What good does burning down a street full of people do, exactly? Last time I saw anything like that it was Nazis. Are you a Nazi?"

Blake shook his own hand passively in response. "Mere tests, and no, last I checked I'm not a Nazi. Anyway, I have to test my findings somehow, and where better than a former place of a graveyard? North Elm street was a cemetery less than a year ago, not unlike this one. The city demolished it in cold blood to make room for more lodgings. There was a place I could raise the dead, so I stole the chance."

"So you have been raising the dead yourself? No vampire involved?"

"Your blonde companion and the kid were the first vampires I'd ever met. With the help of someone else's research, it was a simple matter to raise them myself."

"And why would a human want to raise ghouls? They aren't even as capable as regular soldiers, there's no reason to want them for fighting."

"Why? Why not?! I could save the world with this! Imagine: No one dying… or permanently, anyway. If I can bring them back, we no longer have to fear death!"

Alucard's features darkened. He removed his hat and placed it on a tombstone beside him. Black hair swirling around in the wind, and red eyes flashing with anger. He stood his ground, not moving an inch towards Blake. "There is no such thing as a true immortal."

"We're not talking about a person having the inability to die, Mr. Alucard, we're talking about people with the ability of renewal! Once they die we can bring them back better, stronger! They can be in the pique of healthy condition after ninety years of living!"

"I've been alive on this earth for over five hundred years." Alucard's hand went to his neck, massaging his throat. He took a step towards Blake, but only one, not approaching any further. "Eventually you get tired of living."

"And then we let them die in peace. That's the beauty of this! You can live as long as you want, and die when you're ready. No guessing the dates, no disappointment." Blake's eyes gleamed confidently, a proud look on his face.

"You can't revive the dead, It's an impossibility. Once a person is dead, there's no returning life to them. Their souls are in God's hands by that point." Alucard took another step.

"I'm on my way to doing it. The people I've raised up to now are… incomplete. They have no souls, they're merely animated corpses. Worthless abominations. That's why I had tests, Alucard. I had to see if raising a fresher specimen would give me a different result."

"So you killed an entire neighborhood full of people to fulfill your needs." Alucard took one last step, ending nose to nose with Blake. His eyes glowed, anger palpable in the air. It burned Blake to even be near the seething vampire, but he kept his composure as Alucard grabbed him by the front of the shirt, lifting him into the air.

"That's not a loss. as soon as I complete the research I can bring them back. I just have to figure out how."

"There is no way how! You're insane! People like you are the reason mankind is so corrupt: People trying to cheat death! No… no, not people. You're not fit to be called a person. You're just a piece of shit on the bottom of my shoe!" Alucard pulled his gun back from coat, pushing the end of the barrel against the mad scientist's head.

Blake smiled. "Have I explained how yet?"

Alucard refrained from pulling the trigger, but held the gun clean against his head, not allowing for any movement. He nodded his consent for the man to continue. "Thank you for delaying my death. I'll cut to the chase. I'm sure you know I'm a survivor of The Zeppelin Incident thirty years ago. I managed to escape the massacre of the night, and even went exploring during the day! Anyway, I found these papers in one of the crashed zeppelins… A few signed 'Doc'."

As Alucard's crimson eyes widened, he stepped back, removing the gun from Blake's head. Hand still holding onto the man's shirt, Alucard spit in his face. "Where are they?"

"Mmm? I'm afraid you're going to have to be more clear, Alucard."

"The papers. Where are they?"

"Oh, _those_ things. They're right here." Blake chuckled as Alucard dropped him, bending his knees as he hit the ground again. Reaching into his own vest, Blake removed the research papers from a pocket inside. "These, right here. Do you want them?"

Alucard didn't hesitate a moment, flying at Blake, who held the papers out tauntingly, like a piece of jerky to a dog.

Alucard stopped mid-grab.

His hand twitched in the air, struggling to move. The vampire's eyes widened, alarmed. Fingers twisted this way and that, but came no closer to the crucial papers. "What have you done?!" He growled, almost shouting at Blake's gleeful countenance.

Casimir laughed openly in his face, tucking the papers back into his vest. He took a few steps back and hopped back onto the tombstone he had jumped off of a few minutes earlier. "I already told you, didn't I? I didn't? Oh, I suppose I forgot to mention… my research not only enables me to resurrect the dead, but also control them!" He bowed dramatically at the still completely immobile Alucard. "To a point, at least. I couldn't even control my own ghouls until a few days ago. Now, it seems, I've become powerful enough to control a full vampire- The No-Life King no less!"

Alucard's eyes sharpened, his mouth curving down in displeasure. "Your power is incomplete. You're nowhere near as powerful as me."

"You think so? Then why can't you move, Mr. All powerful?"

Eyes turning a slightly brighter shade of red, Alucard smiled his usual grin of insanity. "Oh, this is the extent of your power? Immobilizing me? How quaint. You're not even powerful enough to make me move an inch in your favor!"

Blake's smirk was wiped from his face, eyes becoming angry. He stepped two steps to Alucard and reached into the vampire's jacket. "But I can still kill you here and now. Then I don't have to deal with you." He pulled out Alucard's gun and hefted the thing into the air. staring at it incredulously for a moment, he tested its weight. "Heavier than it looks. No matter." He held the barrel to Alucard's head. Anger clear in his eyes, he spoke again. "You know, Alucard, it's a shame I have to do this. I wanted you alive to witness my triumph as I assist the world. Then you'd see you were wrong to go against me. But it seems you're going to be hostile, and I don't have the time to deal with you. Goodbye."

His triumphant smirk returned to his face as he pulled the trigger, blowing Alucard's head clean off. Blake's own arm was thrown back, his eyes widening as he howled in pain at the unexpected recoil. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! GOD DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!" The oversized gun fell to the ground with a hard thump, Blake's arm gone limp, hand bloodied and broken. His own crimson blood fell to the ground in large drops, streaming down his hand. Wincing, he stood, holding his broken wrist tightly with his free hand. He glared at Alucard's corpse angrily, kicking it as hard as he dared without causing too much disruption to his mangled arm.

He shouted harsher curses at the moonlit air, howling his anger into the empty night sky.

Henry's eyes darted towards the sound of a gun firing near him. The sight that met his eyes made them widen into dinner plates. Alucard's blood stained, headless body fell to the ground in a gruesome heap. Blake Casimir stood howling curses at the air, his right arm limp as if dead. Henry found himself next to the scene before he knew what was happening, running at top speed to uncover the horrendous display in front of him.

Blake tilted his head, one eye pointing at Henry. He smiled crazily at the approaching teenager, clear he was at his mental end with the pain. "You! I can work with you!" He stepped one pained step towards the fledgling, hobbling slowly trying to keep from further hurting his mutilated arm. "Help me! I don't want much, I just need help with my tests!"

Henry stopped in his tracks, appalled at the limping monstrous man before him. He took a tentative step back, blood running cold in fear of the insanity before him. "Y-you killed Alucard."

He waved his hand up and down, shoving away the comment. "He was uncooperative! I had to. You, you won't make me do the same! Work with me! We can help humanity!"

Henty grasped desperately at the memory of North Elm. "Your tests are dangerous. I-I can't help you. I have a job, and it's against you." Determination crept slowly into his voice. He stopped his slow retreat, instead taking a step forward.

Blake's eyes turned enraged. He ran at Henry the last few steps, and stopped directly in front of him. "Don't test me, boy! You're no match for my power! I work for humanity, but I can just as well destroy you!"

Henry stood his ground, looking down at the stooped man in front of him. He sneered in response to Blake's ravings, knowing his superiority.

Blake raised a his free hand away from his body. "Do you even know what I'm offering you, you little BASTARD!" Quickly he brought his enclosed fist against Henry's ear, throwing the boy's head to the side. "Aaahh!" He howled again as a new shock of pain seized his mangled arm.

Henry pushed himself up from the ground, feeling a small trickle of blood stream down his head from where Blake attacked him. He felt his head and brought his fingers to his face, the crimson red staining the pale skin. He gawked at Blake, who was still screeching about his arm. "You punched me."

Blake glowered. "Yes, I did. Now you're either going to join me in my effort to help humanity, or you'll meet a similar end to your deceased friend, Alucard!"

Shadow slashed between the two men, a chaotic red glow flashing in front of them. Spazzing in the breeze, Seras' turbulent limb sliced before she appeared beside Henry, face portraying an anger Henry didn't recognize as possible. Her true arm standing protectively over Henry, her chaotic mass formed with a sharpened edge, pushing hard against Blake Casimir's neck, directly over his artery.

Blake stopped moving, halting his entire body where he stood. His chest moved in and out rhythmically, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and closed his mouth most of the way, leaving it only just open enough to gasp in quick breaths of air.

Seras didn't move her body, but spoke directly at the humiliated scientist. "Where is Alucard?" directly to the point, she didn't beat around the bush.

Blake didn't answer right away, gulping, his adam's apple moving up and down as he heaved in breath. "I-I shot him. With his own gun. He's long dead, and there's nothing you can do! Let me go!"

She pushed her vampiric arm further into his neck, only just away from breaking his skin and puncturing his vital blood vessel. "Where is Schrodinger?"

Blake's face turned confused for a moment before it dawned on him. "The cat-eared kid? I haven't seen him. I didn't know he was here."

As if on queue, Seras felt a tap on her shoulder from behind. She didn't even flinch, she knew what it was. "Here and reporting for duty, fraulein Seras!" His gleeful tone completely counteracting the vicious atmosphere. She nodded in response, not taking her eyes off Blake.

"Blake, you've lost. Either come with us, or I'll have to kill you here and now."

Blake laughed a few chortles, careful not to move his neck too much into her point. "I-I have you beaten! Without Alucard, what are you? Nothing! The Doc was very clear about you: You're useless without your master! You're not a full vampire!"

Seras' serious face produced a smirk. "Schrodinger is here, and so is Alucard. Do you think one of his own bullets could possibly keep him away for long?"

His eyes widened. "Impossible. He's powerful, but he was no match for his own gun! I could kill you whenever I feel like it!"

"Then why don't you do it?"

Blake swallowed his fear, breathing beginning to slow down. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating. "Look behind you."

Seras' lost her smirk immediately. Slowly she turned her head around, looking at Henry, who had crawled himself off the ground. His eyes were blank and cloudy, his expression completely without emotion. "Wh-what did you do?"

"This is the extent of my current power! I can't control a full vampire like Alucard, but this? he is but a child! Worthless to a vampire, but the strongest possible weapon for me! You might want to move your shadows to the larger of two evils, or you may find yourself a little bit shorter: by a head." Smiling his new insane look, Blake stole a tentative step back. Seras' eyes grew wide as realization emerged in her mind. In an instant, her shadows were wrapped around Henry in a full circle, not letting a single opening of leeway.

Blake laughed triumphantly. "This has turned against my favor, so I believe I'll take my leave. I admit, Seras Victoria, I thought you and your friends would be good test subjects. It's a shame I have to kill you now." He bowed, staring down the blonde police woman. "Henry… clean up." He spun on his heels and laughed as he hobbled away in the mist, Seras quickly losing sight of him from the fog that had settled down.

Seras focused her attention fully to Henry. His eyes changed from cloudy to sharpened in mere seconds, his eyebrows curving down, scrunching in irritation. The eyes of a fledgling remained their original color unless they were in a blood rage: Henry's eyes were now bright, crimson red.

"Henry, snap out of it. You're in a trance, wake up!" She spoke softly, calmly to the slowly inflaming fledgling. He snapped his gaze up to her face and stared her down for a moment.

It all happened within an instant.

Henry jumped into the air, dodging Seras' shadows by mere inches. At speeds only employable by a vampire, he rushed towards the girl, zigzagging away from her frantically spastic chaotic limb, reaching up to her face. His fist collided with her chin, knocking her backward a step before he dashed away from her range again.

Seras quickly recovered from the blow, rubbing her chin where she'd been hit. "Schrodinger!" She called, still whipping her arm around desperately, trying to land a hit without killing Henry. She knew well enough he wasn't attacking her of his own free will: He was under the control of a necromancer.

The cat-boy stepped in front of her and smiled gleefully. "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeees?"

She suppressed her irritation enough to utter an order. "Grab him, block him, do something! Keep him still!" Henry had jumped into the air again, hands bared like claws on the offense. She sent a well aimed shadow straight into his chest, blowing him away a few feet before he knocked into the ground.

Schrodinger had disappeared again, leaving no trace of his being there at all. No doubt he was getting ready to follow orders, like he had to.

Henry scrambled to his feet, baring his shark-like teeth at Seras. His mind filled with bloodlust, he was enraged at being hit. He quickly scanned the ground around him and noticed something at his feet; Alucard's _Casull_ lying on the ground beside him. He stole a quick glance at Seras before reaching down beside him and picking up the oversized gun. It may have been too large for Blake to wield, but any vampire could control a pistol even of that size. He cocked the gun and made a mad dash at Seras, pointing the rectangular barrel at her.

He fell to the ground as a weight pushed him forward, tackling him from behind. Light as it was, he reached back and pulled Schrodinger away, peeling the neko from his skin. Infuriated, he pointed the gun directly at Schrodinger's head and pulled the trigger. The recoil wasn't much. Blood splattered all over the ground and littered the grass, mixing with the clear dew.

Henry smiled at his successful drawing of his enemy's blood. He recovered quickly, still not sated of his enragement. He stood again and shot in Seras' direction, once again having to dodge her shadows.

Seras sidestepped one of his swipes at her neck, easily dodging the indirect blow. Henry continued to run away at top speed before he leaped, turning in midair. He pointed _Casull_ at Seras' head and pulled the trigger.

_BANG!_

His shot missed, blowing a crater into the ground beside her. The explosion sent the police girl flying through the air, landing on her bum in the grass next to the mausoleum. Alucard's crumpled body laid still beside her, but even in the instance she watched it melted away into nothingness.

Another explosion to her side, but Seras in a show of dexterity bounced away before the air could push her back again. She whipped her eyes in Henry's direction, her arm obediently flying at his chest. He dove to the side, rolling into a standing position again, pointing Alucard's gun at her once more.

_BANG!_

A sharp pain in her leg and Seras was down. She couldn't stand up, her left leg completely gone from below the knee. Blood poured out of the stump like a waterfall for a few seconds before she willed it to heal, shadow encasing the lost appendage, more chaotic mass replacing her leg. She stood again and glared at Henry's stopped form.

The boy smiled madly in her direction, gun aimed directly at her.

"Henry! Snap out of it! You're under Blake's control!"

If he heard her at all, he ignored her. Instead he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, smiling at the sky. Such a cool, peaceful night before they showed up. He was proud that he was able to ruin that.

"Boy, I believe you have something that isn't yours." Spontaneously Henry found his nose broken on the ground, blood leaking out of it. A sharp pain in his hand as his wrist broke, gun wrenched from his grasp.

Henry hissed and climbed to his feet again, scampering away from his assailant. Turning around, he saw who had pushed him and broken his hand. Alucard stood tall, no glasses nor hat blocking his features. His hair whipped wildly in the wind, face furious, and eyes gleaming with glee. He put his gun back inside his coat and crossed his arms into the shape of an upside down cross. "Releasing Control Art Restriction System 3. Approval of Situation C Recognized; Commencing the Cromwell Invocation. Ability restrictions lifted for limited use until the enemy has been rendered _silent_."

Alucard melted into oblivion, turning into the shadow itself. Henry looked around, now genuinely frightened he had met an adversary he could not beat.

Seras saw the opportunity and rushed him, slamming her own fist into his head. Henry turned, baring his fangs at her and hissed in displeasure. She held him down, hands pushing down his shoulders with incredible strength, and straddled across his body. he snarled in response, biting at random, trying to reach a vantage point.

Seras' breathed heavily, victory upon her. She held tight, waiting for Alucard to return so they could do something with the now dangerous Hen-

Her thoughts were cut off as she was blown away from Henry, allowing him to stand. A ghoul now stood beside him, moaning its dreadful, dead gargle. Henry smiled at it before pulling its head to his face and chomping down on its neck, sucking the ghoul dry. After a moment her turned back to Seras, hist wrist completely healed. He took a step towards her. Then another. Then another.

A bullet flew through his leg, throwing him to the ground, unable to stand up anymore. Alucard swooped down upon him, landing his fist into Henry's face. Henry snarled and bit down on Alucard's hand, which earned nothing more than a swat to the side.

His limp body flew through the air for a moment before his head banged into a tombstone. Henry laid there sprawled on the ground for a moment, his head bleeding furiously. Alucard pointed the _Jackal_ at his head, ready to pull the trigger.

"Alucard, no!"

_BANG!_

* * *

**This chapter was an absolute _DELIGHT_! I adored writing such a fast paced, dramatic ending!**

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**STILL NOTHING, YOU DIRTY SLACKERS.**

**-End Responses-**

**Seriously, please leave a review! I get a little discouraged when I see no one's left me anything! Remember, reviews=Writing Fuel!**

**What did you think of this? Was the beginning pretentious? Was it hard to read? Was it as exciting as I was hoping? I THOUGHT SO. But please, tell me what you think! I love hearing from you guys, and I love my readers dearly!**

**On an entirely different note, I have news. This story is confirmed to end up as two arcs. I have the story planned out to the minute, and this arc will end in exactly three chapters unless plans change. THERE IS A SEQUEL PLANNED. I won't give any spoilers, but this is just the beginning of a much larger plot. While I may be bringing this part to an early close, the next will not only be longer, but also much more exciting! With introductions completely out of the way, we're into the meat of the story! IT'S LIKE A COCONUT. Weird analogy, but I stand by it, mostly because it's one in the morning and I'm woozy. There may or may not be an arc three to this. Arc two is completely planned to the minute as much as the rest of this arc. It will not be here, but it will be under its own story. I predict this arc will end at about 52k words, so we're almost there! **

**If I do decide to make an arc three, I think it will please you. Not to give any spoilers, but the end of arc two may leave a few wanting more, so I'm racking my brain as we speak for a plot for a grand finale. I've always wanted to write a trilogy, and this here is my first chance! Thank you all my loyal readers! Feel free to give me ideas, and I may just use one! I don't run a fanservice, but I love hearing fan ideas, as sometimes (often) they're better than my own!**

**Leave a review, a one liner, a long criticism, a FLAME even! For the love of all things Chaotic (Seras' arm, for example (That's my new catch phrase. Some wonderful Christian I am)), let me know what you think!**

**If I sound like I'm begging, that's because I totally am, but at the same time I'm trying to make you laugh. **

**Adieu!**


	10. Talk of Darkness

"_Past all thought of right or wrong!_

_One final question!_

_How long should we two wait before we're one?_

_When will the blood begin to race?_

_The sleeping bud burst into bloom?_

_When will the flames at last consume us?"_

Ernest's fingers flew menacingly across the keyboard, banging the keys with the frightening power, his anger palpable for everything in the room. The nasty notes of the song didn't even sound musical; they weren't even meant to. The song, _The Point of No Return_, was written by the Phantom himself, its entire meaning simply his lust for a companion, in his case, Christine. Even so, when alone, it sounded horrendous. When one examined his life, the Phantom was certifiably insane. The song was a disgusting creation of notes and chords that should never meet, a truly grotesque piece of work.

Precisely the reason why Ernest, nay, Henry had chosen it.

Ernest could no longer bare to call himself Ernest. Henry was who he was. Ernest was the name of a human who had died in a church a few weeks ago. Henry was a vampire born into the depths of Hell a few weeks ago. What was a vampire but a blood sucking monster of wrath? What was Henry? A blood sucking monster of wrath.

Even if it was under the control of a necromancer, he could not muster the strength to forgive himself. He had attacked his friends, attempted to kill his companions. It was not that bad in his mind; if not for the fact he enjoyed it. Attacking vampires he knew were stronger than him! What a rush! It was a wonderful experience! He scratched Seras, tore her skin! The smell… oh, the smell was exquisite! Her blood was something he knew we would not forget soon. Seras' blood smelt of flowers. Like a springtime field. He imagined it would taste something like a honeysuckle. That was half of what drove him to continue attacking her. He just wanted desperately to consume the delicious treat that was sure to be her life.

The smell of blood on the battlefield, the rush of attacking his enemies, the awesome thrill of betraying the ones he called his friends! Alucard was said to be a terrible warmonger; now Henry knew exactly where he was coming from! Alucard's crippled body on the battlefield… Alucard's blood had a spicy taste, he imagined. Even from afar, Henry had managed to pin its scent. Spicy, like a fresh pepper. It smelt as if one taste would set his tongue a burning. But on the other hand, what better to soothe a burning tongue than a nice drink?

Henry hated himself. His self control. His urges. Even if it was not obvious on the battlefield, he still knew it was there. the underlying sense of just wanting, _lusting_, to kill _something_. He wanted blood. That's all he wanted on the battlefield. Alucard could resist Blake's control. Could Henry? No. Half of Blake's control had been what Henry wanted from the beginning. An excuse to fight something!

He was weak. He was wretched. he was vile. He was exactly the example of the kind of vampire Hellsing exterminated. How hard could it be for Blake to control him, if it was really an excuse to do what he wanted?

"_Past the point of no return!_

_The final threshold!_

_The bridge is crossed so stand, and watch it burn!_

_We've passed the point,"_

He hated his own weakness. He wanted to be rid of it! He wanted to just stop!

Henry's fingers moved onto the next few notes.

"_Of no,"_

He could not continue thinking like that. He was a vampire. It was only natural. Seras would tell him it was okay. Alucard would berate him, but still would not be too horribly angry. He knew he was under Blake's control. No one would blame him for what he did. This was the reason he was still alive in the first place.

Henry's guilt overtook his anger. It was best moved aside to another time. Be angry at himself when he had no scapegoat. Use what resources he could for the moment. He could control his urges, it was the push from Blake that sent him over the edge to begin with. He had no reason to be angry with himself.

But still, he despaired. He was a disgrace. Even if no one blamed him, they would still be wary of his weakness. What was to stop Integra from ordering his demise immediately, since he obviously could not resist simple control?

Anger seeped away from his playing. The hard, furious striking of the keys left gradually at the last few notes. His mood was immature. He should not dwell on it, just change what he was going to do.

"_Re-"_

He closed his eyes and a made a short prayer, not even knowing if God would listen to the prayer of a monster like himself.

"_-turn."_

The final note rang its melancholy life before fading away into the vast room, nothing more than a ringing memory in the minds of himself, and his audience, who had unbeknownst to him been watching from behind.

Seras placed her hands on his shoulders, inducing a small jump of fright from the vampire in the piano seat. If he took a deep breath, he could smell the sweet scent of her lifeblood from there. It taunted him, but he resisted the urge to acquire it. "I think that was the most emotional I've ever seen you play."

Henry's eyes remained closed, and lifting his hands from the keyboard he turned the pages of his piano book back into its center. "I find that song is good for venting. Of course, _Devil Take the Hindmost_ comes in a close second, but I didn't think it fit the situation." Exhaling slowly, he opened his eyes.

"I can tell. That last verse was intense." She spoke melodically, as if talking with a child. Her hands went past Henry's shoulders, fingers meeting eachother in the center of his chest, intertwining. "I did notice you sounded more sad near the end, though. Why is that?"

Henry chuckled silently to himself before asking. No doubt Seras' could feel the quick rise and fall of his chest. "The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it seems."

"What? Are you still fuming about Blake being able to control you?"

"Well, yes. But that's half of what I find ridiculous. I'm comparing my own weakness to Alucard's strength." He stretched his fingers, attempting to soothe their aching. The song he had just played tired his arms when he played it regularly; adding real emotion to it did nothing but strengthen the song he had turned to with the intention of singing stared at him..

Seras' giggled to herself, an action Henry could feel on his shoulders… along with a generous amount of extra weight. "That's something you should learn early never to do. There's no reason for you to compare yourself to Alucard. That's like a high school track runner comparing himself to an Olympic gold medalist. You're fine for where you are."

Henry's lip curled upward. He was going to have to steal that analogy. "Which is precisely where the humor comes from." He tentatively placed one hand on hers, which were still interlocked over his chest. Her skin felt smooth, her years of life not having any amount of effect on her body. "Can you sing?"

Seras removed her arms from around his body in favor of sitting next to him on the piano bench. There was plenty enough room, considering he generally sat on the very edge of it anyway."If you're looking for a professional, I'm afraid I can't help." She looked curiously at the piece he was asking her to sing. "I don't think I've heard this one before."

Henry smiled genially. "I rarely do play the softer things like this. Just as _Point of No Return_ is good for venting, this is good for simply calming down. I'll play the first bit for you. It's not too hard to catch onto." Flexing his fingers, Henry softly strummed the piano keys, playing the first little part of the song.

Seras considered for a moment. Henry had never asked her to sing with him before, but he was really desperate for a companion. Before the conflict that led to his becoming a vampire he had had his sister to sing with him when he needed her to. Now he didn't have that pleasure, and he was stuck singing his many duets alone. "I can try, I think." She responded cheerfully.

Henry could feel his mood lightening already.

"Okay, I'll start it, then." Placing his fingers just above where he would first strike the keys, he began to play.

"_No more talk of darkness,_

_Forget these wide-eyed fears;_

_I'm here, nothing can harm you,_

_My words will warm and calm you."_

Henry had to stop himself from laughing out loud at the verses he sang. It was more like Seras should be singing to him. She, after all, was in a fine mood. The only thing spoiling her day was Henry being depressed himself. But the irony only got worse as the song went on.

"_Let me be your freedom,_

_Let daylight dry your tears;"_

Daylight drying the tears of a vampire. Yes. That was very likely. Tears of pain as his flesh was seared.

"_I'm here, with you, beside you,_

_To guard you and to guide you."_

Seras was definitely meant to be singing his part.

As his last verse came to an end, Seras began to sing her own. Her voice was shaky and uncertain, but she soon took grasp of the melody. She was no professional, but she never claimed to be. Henry could not boast of being that good himself, so he was no person to judge.

"_All I ask is every waking moment,_

_Turn my head with talk of summer-time._

_Say you need me with you now and always;_

_Promise me that all you say is true,_

_That's all I ask of you…"_

Seras' lines came to an end, and Henry's became the focus once more. He'd actually never played this particular song with anyone other than his sister before. The romantic meaning in the lyrics made it an uncomfortable duet to sing with just anyone. Seras, however, did not seem to mind.

Henry sang his verses, keeping himself calm as his voice resonated. Often when he played _All I Ask of You_ he would become immersed in the music and lose sight of reality for a few minutes until the song ended. The calming aria was a simple one to forget oneself with.

It seemed it was only a short time before they reached the end of the song, singing together the last two lines.

"_Anywhere you go let me go too;_

_Love me, that's all I ask of you."_

He held the note for a moment before slowly lifting his hands. A content smile on his face, Henry made another prayer to the God who only may care.

What happened before was nothing. If he was weak in mind then the only choice was to strengthen his mind before it could be used against him again.

Seras stretched her arms above her head, yawning as if tired. The sun was quickly approaching its rise, so no doubt it was completely warranted. "That was interesting. Beautiful song, by the way. You should play it more often." Her delighted smile had returned to her ever cheerful face. She rose from the bench and stood behind Henry once more.

His own appeased smile glimmered as he spun around to face her. "It always sounds better when someone sings with me. Perhaps I should force you to join me more often."Sleep forcing itself upon him, Henry knew exactly where Seras' tired demeanor was coming from.

Henry stood and placed a fist on his back, twisting to pop his spine. "I think I'm going to turn in for the nigh-" He abruptly stopped himself, coughing into his fist. "Excuse me, turn in for the day."

Seras openly laughed in return, her eyes gleaming, and her voice bubbly as always. It seemed Seras really did not have a care in the world. "I agree. It's almost morning. Integra will be angry if I'm not ready to get up immediately if something were to happen." Henry had heard about a few instances in Hellsing's past where they had been stormed during the day. None of them had ended well, and he had no wish to witness one of these raids.

Henry nodded in response, already turning to put away his piano books. Seras made her way out of the room, walking a comfortable pace. She was in no hurry. "I'll see you tonight, then, Henry."

"See ya." He chirped. Seras opened the door on the other side of the room and left, leaving Henry alone with his thoughts for the second time that night.

The piano books made a soft shuffling noise as he slipped them into their box. The boy stood again and strolled to the door. He could still smell her scent around. It truly was hard to ignore. The scent of flowers in a field, her blood in her body. The aroma left in her wake lingered for a long while after her passing. Henry stood a moment, enjoying the chance to simply enjoy it.

There really was no helping him.

* * *

"I think the board's angry at you, fraulein."

Integra puffed her cigar with a mighty _huff_ at Schrodinger's last remark. She'd being doing her best to ignore the cat-boy for the past two hours, but he was like the itch that would not go away. She had already shot him twice, but he would waltz in the door two seconds later each time. She had long since given up any hope of actually managing to kill the annoying Nazi.

At that moment in particular, Integra was on the final stretch of a large pile of paperwork that needed to be done before the next stack came in- which was sure to be later that day. Various reports from various government organizations. Police Departments country-wide complaining about small-scale crime with links to the supernatural; small inconveniences that would have to be tidied up after the worst of what Hellsing had seen thus far was taken care of. Ghouls had been spotted seemingly on every other street, next to none linked to any vampiric occurrences. Blake Casimir was obviously approaching his endgame.

The file that held her attention at that moment was a request from the Royal Order of Religious Knight's board of directors, coupled with an order from his majesty the king herself. Inside contained not only a list of complaints, but also a scheduled meeting time. The up-spring in the vampire population had the Order on its toes, and now the necromancer business had the old men jumping out of their seats. Ill favor leaked from their words. No one would dare say a wrong word to the great Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing with her guard, Alucard, at her heel at all times, but they showed no fear in expressing their displeasure at her inability to wrap things up in a nice little bow in the short amount of time it had been since the last meeting; roughly three weeks beforehand.

Schrodinger had come in and decided he was going to help her. Unfortunately, his version of help was mostly reading from over her shoulder and making pesky remarks whenever he saw something he could make fun of her with. There was no way to put the 'fear of God' in that boy.

"So you get to meet with ol' queensy soon then?" He laughed to himself, his obnoxious high pitched chortles. "Oh, I'm sorry, ol' Kingsy. It's been five years since Queen Duracell died, and I still can't quite get used to having the new old man." Integra did not even bother to acknowledge the boy had said anything past his initial statement.

"Yes, it seems I will. At least they gave me two weeks notice, at any rate." She flipped to the next paper. Property damage expenses. More to add to the budget they tried to pretend was bottomless. Penwood would not be happy.

Schrodinger stood up straight, moving his head further away from Integra's shoulder, where he had been perched for the last half hour. Stretching his arms above his head the boy walked ten steps to the bookshelf on the other side of the room. Integra peered over the paper at him. "Don't you have anything better to do than pester me?"

Schrodinger adopted an incredulous look, as if what she was suggesting both confused and offended him. "My, my, fraulein, do you not like my company? I'm merely looking over your store of literature."

Integra's gaze bored holes. "You did that an hour ago as well. I daresay you're bored and just won't admit it."

Schrodinger shrugged in response. "You don't have many fun things in the mansion. Even se best of us get a little restless sometimes."

Integra returned to the paperwork. There would be no arguing with him. She would not win. Schrodinger no doubt was completely insane. No one could win a battle of logic with a completely illogical person. "You could listen to Henry play piano." Even the most logical people do completely illogical things at times. "From what Seras has told me- and that would be a lot, the fawning girl- he's gotten better. Go bother him some."

Schrodinger gave his quizzical face another go. "But sen I wouldn't see se fun part."

Integra raised her eyebrow suspiciously. Schrodinger knew something. "Explain."

The cat-boy chuckled in response. "I'm everywhere, and yet nowhere. Do you think there's anything I don't know?"

"I would put you to work if I didn't know you'd just play around instead."

"You hurt me, fraulein!"

"Sir, you have a visitor!" A man's voice rang over the intercom, interrupting their conversation. Integra adjusted her glasses and pressed down the button on her desk. "Send them in." It did not matter who it was, even if it was the filthy Vatican. Anything to stop Schrodinger's ravings.

Not even a minute later, there was a knock on the outside of Integra's office door. Schrodinger retreated back behind Integra's chair, a sly smile on his face proof that he was enjoying himself. "Come in." Integra answered the knocker, her voice calm and polite, yet still commanding and stern.

The door creaked open, revealing a man who promptly entered the room. He stood maybe just taller than Integra, jet-black hair running down his neck to just before his shoulders, ending in handsome curls. His skin was slightly darker than a Londoner, but too light to point to him as a foreigner. His eyes, bright green in color, betrayed a slightly uncomfortable feeling, but at the same time conviction.

Integra stared down her new visitor, eyes almost squinted. Putting up her most intimidating aura, she spoke. "And to whom do I have the pleasure?"

The green eyed man bowed slowly before speaking. "Agent Jonathan of the American Legion."

_And so Legion finally strikes._ Integra thought dully. This would undoubtedly be a pain in the _neck_.

"Oh yes. I was told I might be hearing from you lot soon. So what is it that you found the need to send a low ranking operative into my territory?" Integra spoke with the ferocity of a tiger stalking its meal, yet keeping her composure still and sure. An Iron Lady without fail.

Agent Jonathan, as he had introduced himself, sat in the chair in front of Integra. "As you undoubtedly know, there have been reports _en masse_ of Hellsing's defences finally beginning to crumble."

Integra flared in anger, yet managed to content herself with a small eyebrow twitch. If she lost her head here, it would spell trouble later. Thirty years ago she might have been able to be a bludgeon and plow through the consequences, but she became softer with old age. While still formidable, she was beginning to doubt her own abilities. A careful approach to any situation was due. "Crumbling is the wrong word. Weakening would also be incorrect. We are as strong a fortress, if not stronger, than ever." She spoke smoothly.

Schrodinger snickered, but did not say anything out loud. He knew full well it was his power that allowed Hellsing to be as powerful as they were. Even if it was unspoken, Hellsing was only as powerful as the vampires they possessed. Without Alucard, Hellsing Organization would not exist. With Schrodinger's soul in the vampire, he was completely unbeatable.

Jonathan smiled aggressively. He came in doubting his power, but unlike most he seemed immune to Integra's intimidating behavior. He seemed undaunted, if not rivaling her own power! "Really, now? Even with all this talk of a pesky necromancer you still see yourself as strong?"

Integra allowed another eyebrow to twitch.

"That man has been lucky, but it will not happen again. The only reason he's not in our custody at this moment is because we did not know of the power he possessed. Next time we will have him in our grasp."

"Yes, yes. If I remember correctly that's exactly what you told Makube."

So he had heard of her conversation with Iscariot's Chief Makube… It was not that surprising. No doubt the conversation was required to be put in the Vatican's files, and with Legion as a potential ally, that information would be shared.

Not to mention Legion's spies.

"At that point we knew there was something sinister about the man. We were not anticipating what a regular mortal would be able to accomplish."

At this Jonathan openly laughed his ridicule. He was finding this conversation funny! "You would think that after a complete destruction of London people would learn to never underestimate their enemies."

Integra closed her eyes. It would not do to lose her head here. Not five minutes into the conversation, and this Jonathan character was already getting on her last nerve. Perhaps Schrodinger was preferable to this disgusting piece of Legion underling. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. "We have confirmed where he got his power, at least. Now that we know his source material, we can predict exactly the extent of what he can do."

"Oh yes, the infamous Doc's papers. I was told about those. All I could think of was 'How could they let such an important piece of classified information get snatched from under their noses?' Would you care to explain?"

Integra gripped her desk tightly. "I could send you out at any moment, so don't test me boy. The papers were stolen before the recovery team had arrived. We assumed the papers had burned that day along with the rest of the Doc's experiments. Apparently he kept his research papers on a different blimp."

"And you didn't bother to make sure… Tsk, tsk, a messy job indeed. But hey, my job isn't to chastise you for past mistakes!" He replaced his malicious grin with a cheery smile, uplifting in every way. This man had a slew of strong expressions, and it seemed he was adept at changing them very quickly whenever he needed to. That would surely get annoying quickly.

Integra did not deem him worthy of an answer, instead simply stating: "So what _did_ you come here for, exactly?" Schrodinger chuckled and walked back to the bookshelf. Jonathan paused, watching the cat-boy walk.

"Holding the leftovers as well, I see. You have poor taste. But yes, I suppose it's my duty to inform you." Jonathan's face became stony and expressionless. "I came simply to tell you that Legion sees little value in letting Hellsing continue. Both we and the Vatican fear that England is soon to be overrun with the undead should help not be lended."

Integra would be damned to take the offer for help. "We are the Royal Order of Religious Knights. We fight creatures of darkness, and keep evil at bay so that our great religion can carry on. As a proud order, we cannot accept this proposal."

"It is no longer your choice, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing!" Jonathan's face of clay developed a sudden smirk. "This necromancer, Blake Casimir, is the final straw. Not being able to keep vampires under control is one thing, but this… this is a mortal! You can't even kill one man that stands between you and peace?"

"Blake Casimir is none of Legion's concern!" Integra shouted, arms pushing her body out of her seat, standing up. Her glasses fell in disarray off her face as she stood, landing with a _clink _on her desk. Integra exhaled again, putting her aged temper back in check. Sitting, she plucked her glasses up and returned them to her face. "We will have him taken off the streets in a matter of days."

Jonathan studied his adversary for a moment, hand on his chin. He was a young, pompous boy. Probably no older than twenty-two. His chin showed no signs of ever having a proper beard, but it did contain stubble, proof of his youth. "This is Hellsing's last chance. Get rid of Blake Casimir and return the level of vampires to normal, or we step in."

"That's a violation of the agreement. You'd be declaring war against the king."

"So be it. No doubt Makube told you of the Vatican's plans to assist us. You may be able to overcome the Vatican, but with both of us? You and your feeble board of old directors don't stand a chance." His eyes no longer reflected malice, but a kind of pity.

That pompous _bastard!_

Integra closed her eyes for the third time in the last five minutes. She slowly counted to ten, listening to every sound in the room. Schrodinger stood in the corner, happily turning pages of a book he had plucked off the shelf. Jonathan made no movements.

"Get out of my office. I don't give a damn about Legion and your board of self-serving scum, or the Vatican's insanity. We are the Royal Order of Religious Knights, and we will defend ourselves until the enemy is, and always will be, rendered _silent_."

* * *

**Mmm, this chapter was nerve-wracking. Now that we're on the final stretch of this arc, I'm getting more and more excited! Two chapters to the end, and I can't wait! I have so many plans!**

**Oooooooooooooh, I'm excited! this is turning out so well! Legion has finally made an official threat to Hellsing, and everything is falling (mildly) into place!**

**As you know if you've been reading the author's notes, this story will have an arc two. The next arc, however, is not completely set in stone. I have everything down to the minute, but none of it is written down yet; therefore, it can be re-imagined. Tell me what you think I should do! Should I add romance into the next arc? If so, who should I pair? Is there any character (non-canon, of course) that you'd hate to see go? Is there anything I can possibly do that could botch up a story that's going beautifully?! This is what reviews are for, my friends!**

**SPEAKING OF REVIEWS!**

**Review Responses:**

**Zolmana: Mhmhmhm, I try.**

**-End Responses-**

**I need more, my friends! Moar!**

**As a final note, I am currently planning an arc three. I think I have maybe half a stick figure drawn out, but I'm trying my hardest. Expect more from me in the future, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Two chapters to the end, and I'm still tingling as if I just started!**

**NOTE: I now have an entire stick figure! A wobbly one at least. After a good brainstorming session with my brother (Whom finally asked for credit in this) I have plans for arc 3, and -surprise surprise- an arc four. Don't go thinking I'm stretching a story longer than it should, this all makes literary sense, and it would actually be lazy of me to give you anything less. I decided not to make it all one big story because, well, I write as if I'm writing a novel, and that goes down to chapter length, and over-all length. I don't need a whopping 100k story right now. I'll save that for when I'm an established author, for now I'm writing fanfiction. Anywho, everything is still up for grabs. I have an entire story planned out, along with a few epic scenarios I plan to set up, but remember: I don't even have arc two written yet, much less three and four! Everything can be changed. Leave a review saying what you like and what you don't, and then I can plan around so I don't do something incredibly stupid (Except one incredibly stupid thing that I'm not changing, but that's a long way away. *spoilers*.**

**And with that, Adieu.**


	11. The Endgame

"Damn it all… damn it all to Hell…" Blake Casimir muttered under his breath. He could not lose now. He had worked hard to help the world as much as he could. He had worked for _thirty years_ waiting for his one chance to change everything. But now everything was botched, his plans were ruined!

Well, not all the way.

Hellsing had stepped in. They were now a threat to his selfless dream, the dream he wanted to make reality and save the world with! He could not possibly run from them forever, but perhaps… perhaps he could finish early. If he kept studying trying to perfect his work, no doubt Alucard would step in and destroy everything he worked for!

'_I only have one choice left...'_

He had to do something fast. There was a point of no return for everything. There were two sides of every spectrum, but he needed to tip the scales to his own. Blake simply had to do something that was irreversible! If he could tip the scales far enough, they would have no choice but to let him finish; after all, he was only person capable of finishing the noble work!

Blake had run a long way from their last battle. He walked through field after field trying to lose the vampires. With the child as a distraction, they could not possibly have followed him, but they would no doubt catch up if given the chance. At length he found himself at a most famous sight. A large circle of impossible large boulders, all stacked up on one another. Stonehenge.

His mangled arm lay in his lap, a heap of crumpled flesh and snapped bones. The gun had truly done a number. Though with a little effort, he might be able to do something about it… If he could control the dead, if he could fix the dead to a point, what was to stop him from fixing his own flesh? It was worth trying out.

Standing, he let his dead arm dangle. It was hardly part of his body anymore. It no longer mattered if it was attached to him, it was thoroughly dead. Every cell in the arm had died, even if they had not yet begun to decay. Blood dribbled from the mess, ruining the grass beneath him. The necromancer looked to the sky with closed eyes and held his good arm to his dead one, focusing all his energy into healing it. If he could heal this one arm, he would be able to accomplish what he needed most at the moment.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" His flesh seared as it sewed itself back together. Even if the cells were dead, it seemed his nerves were working just fine. He could feel the perverse crawling of his skin, coming together, binding the muscles, working the bones back into place. It seemed like hours of torture before he finally stopped.

Sweat dribbled down his face, his neat hair moppy from exertion. He did not dare gaze upon his arm, instead settling on attempting to move it before he saw what he had done. At first he felt nothing, but slowly, gently, he felt his fingers curl. Blake's eyes snapped open in surprise, shooting to his arm at his side.

The sight that met him was ghastly.

The skin had turned black. not a natural skin tone, but like dark, deep rot. It was the color of a ghoul's flesh. Holding back the urge to puke, he breathed slowly. He lifted his "new" arm in front of his face. Fortunately, it did not smell like it looked. It smelled of soil and blood, but not of rot.

He had done it.

The realization dawned on him like a bright new sunshine.

He had accomplished the task.

Now he just needed to do it on a larger scale.

He closed his eyes once more and laughed to the sky, a mocking laugh aimed at the heavens, neigh, God himself! If he could heal his arm with his own power, he had truly surpassed God! He had what he needed to raise people from the dead, and if he could do that, what was to stop him from the ultimate sin?

Blake Casimir knew what he had done, but he was still proud of it.

He had surpassed God.

"Watch out world!" Blake called, his laugh still ringing for as far as anyone could hear. "You're all about to be saved!"

* * *

Everything fit together perfectly. Every mystery that had been pestering John Hawthorne for the past two weeks finally fit together… almost.

The murder in St. Johns was linked to the conflagration of North Elm. The corpses in North Elm were much more decayed than they should have been. Nothing seemed to fit the context of the facts. Being a good detective, John at least had the foresight to watch the local news in search of more appearances of the two suspects; The blonde girl, and the Ozzy Osbourne looking fellow.

This quickly paid off.

Of course after all the serious news was covered, the station would always play the trivial matters; a supposed sighting of walking corpses in the town of Irnbrook's cemetery for example. Hawthorne himself, of course, had every reason to investigate himself.

XxX

John Hawthorne crouched behind a particularly large tombstone, his back leaned against it. Air drove in and out of his lungs, chest heaving with effort. Overcome with an inescapable feeling that he had seen something no one was supposed to, he had been forced to turn around and collect himself.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! GOD DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!"

The voice of the dapper man pierced the peaceful noises of the night, interrupting everything. His shrill shrieks of pain were all that he could hear. Mere moments before he had been talking to a large man in red clothes, the same man who allegedly killed two children in a church, not to mention set an entire neighborhood on fire. The red-clad giant had been reaching for a short stack of papers until he, as if by magic, stopped mid-snatch. The man holding the papers developed a smug look as he returned the papers to his jacket. From his distance, John could barely hear them mumble, much less make out their words. The most he was able to grasp was that those papers were of utmost importance.

The man spoke once more, that smirk still on his face, before reaching into the other man's blood red coat. From within the overcoat he drew the largest pistol Hawthorne had ever seen and pointed it directly at the man's head. There was a short pause before he pulled the trigger, blasting the red-clad man's head clean off his body.

Hawthorne saw a lot of blood in his line of work, but even for him it was rare to witness a murder as terrible, grotesque as this. It was then that he turned, requiring all his focus to contain himself from heaving his dinner away. The scene replayed numerous times over and over again, the blood splattering on the grass fresh.

I still was not this that drew the puzzle together.

After a few minutes of calming his heart, both the threat of puking and cardiac arrest seeping away, he gained the strength to turn himself around once more and look back on the scene that played out on the other side of the graveyard.

A new player was on the field, a teenager by the looks of it. Slightly shorter than the murderer, he stood face to face with the man, whose own arm was now dangling at his side, bloodied and mangled. The man's back was turned away from Hawthorne, but he could clearly see the boy's face, a mixture of fear and disgust.

Whatever the boy had been saying to him, the man with the broken arm did not seem to be enjoying it. "... You little BASTARD!" He punched the boy, tossing his body to the ground. It was after this that everything began to piece itself together.

A mere second later a blade of shadow appeared between the two fighting, a lightening bolt of chaos, whipping back and forth. A blonde woman appeared, her face nothing short of rage. Hawthorne's amazement only multiplied once his mind registered the fact that the lawless whip was attached to the girl's arm.

'_Is this it? The red-clad man, the blonde woman… No doubt these are the two I keep hearing about. But who is the man?' _Not a second after thinking this, he chastised himself. '_That must be who they're working for! The man pulling the strings in the background!'_

This was not a random murder unfolding before him, this was an argument between a boss and his hitmen! This was possibly the most dangerous event he had ever witnessed.

John could not quite pinpoint when, but another figure had joined them. The blonde haired boy must have walked up while John was thinking. He watched intensely as the man with the disfigured arm walked away, laughing gleefully despite his obvious injuries. With the man pulling the strings happily waltzing away, John still felt it was the three in front of him that were more important to watch. No doubt they'd just walk away themselves and disperse.

The black haired boy jumped on the blonde girl, her shadow limb slashing around in the night sky, trying to hit the attacking boy. He dodged her attacks at astounding speed, surely impossible for any normal person.

This continued their perverse dance for a while longer until the blonde boy, whom Blake had just noticed seemed to have two brown growths on his head, attempted to tackle the crazed attacker.

The boy picked the large gun off the ground and promptly shot the blonde in the head, spraying his blood everywhere. Another shadow attack from the girl sent the boy sprawling, but he quickly recovered. He ran away a slight distance before stopping for a breath.

Another voice rang out over the graveyard, a sort of chant sounding from all directions. John searched around for the source, but ultimately he only found one anomaly; the red man's body was no longer where it should be. He returned his gaze to the bloodshed to find the boy lying on the ground. He seemed dead, but it was mere seconds before he was up again.

The fighting began again, the constant back and forth, neither making any progress. Hawthorne scanned the grounds for something else around them, afraid he would miss an act of extreme importance. Another man walked towards the two, walking with a large limp. the boy took notice and rand towards the oncoming body.

Hawthorne could barely believe his eyes as the boy sank his teeth into the man's neck. The girl stood stunned, not making a single move against him until he released his hold. Teeth stained red with blood, he snarled at her. Any wounds he had previously earned were completely gone!

One word continuously repeated itself in Hawthorne's mind. '_Vampire...'_ It was a ridiculous notion, but he could not seem to shake it. It made too much sense! Everything that was happening all came together with that one word…

It was the only thing his mind clung to as the fighting continued, and the only thing that kept him sane (If it could even be called that) when he saw the red-clad man standing behind the boy once more! Completely alive and unharmed, the lanky giant held another gun to the boy's head.

"Alucard, no!" He heard the girl shout.

_BANG!_

Everything was still. The boy lay still against a tombstone, not moving an inch, bleeding profusely out of his leg. The two that had beaten him stood over his body, the blonde girl seemingly close to tears. She hung on the boy's body, shaking him. Both of the pair's backs were turned. Hawthorne stole his chance and crept behind a tombstone closer to them. He did not dare show his face from this distance, but he could hear them talk if he was quiet.

The man's voice spoke first. "He's not dead."

A sound of sobbing the girl, obviously trying her best not to cry. "We need to get him back to the manor."

"Seras, he's a vampire. He's not as weak as humans. He'll be fine, he needs blood."

'_They said it! Vampires!'_

John Hawthorne felt his heart skip a beat. Vampires. It was insane, it was impossible, but it made so much sense! The shadowy arm! The impossible speeds! The lack of bodies at St. Johns, the decomposed corpses at North Elm! It was an impossibility normally, but with vampires it all came together perfectly!

"Integra won't be happy that we failed." The girl's voice continued, by the sounds of it at last composing herself.

"Blake's not subtle. We'll be able to find him again. We will not fail to kill this maniac a third time." The red-clad man answered. "For now we return to Hellsing. Pick up the boy. He's your responsibility."

The tension was palpable, even without being able to see them. There was no context, but Hawthorne knew; this was some sort of rejection. Of whom was rejected and why he could not tell, but the man's tone was certain.

'_Hellsing? I've heard of that...'_ There were always rumors circulating about the queen having specialized military groups. Hellsing was one of those rumors. Like America had area fifty-one supposedly dealing in aliens, the british had their own special forces against the supernatural; Hellsing. Of course, it was all rumors. No one thought it really existed with the exception of conspiracy nutjobs. Though perhaps there might be something to this particular one… With limited access to police records, it was possible he might find _something_ to give him a hint.

There was a quiet shuffle as the pair walked off, apparently with the boy's supposedly live body in tow. John Hawthorne, frozen in fear and excitement, sat for an hour more. Better to leave when everyone had left than to risk being caught.

This was dangerous. People should not be in the dark about people- no, _monsters_\- as dangerous as those three. Hellsing was something that needed to be confronted, and John was the only person that could do it.

John Hawthorne jumped to his feet. His chair clattered to the floor with a _bang_. This was his queue to leave, this was his time to act!

"_More zombie sightings have been reported, this time at the famous location of Stonehenge in Amesbury. The witness, Amanda Burns, age sixteen, reports having gone to the monument after hours 'on a dare'. She says she found more than she bargained for when she was approached by an oncoming man."_

The news on the TV changed to a young girl, the teen who had seen the monster in question. Her eyes were puffy red, tears of fear still streaming out of them. She wiped away her tears with her hands, partially covered by her sleeves. Someone held a microphone to her face, and after a moment she began speaking. "_M-my friend dared me to come to Stonehenge at night. He said there were legends of things like ghosts all around, but I never really believed him. I told him it was all stupid myth but he insisted, so I went myself to prove him wrong._

"_When I got there I saw a man just kind of swaying next to one of the pillars. I thought it was some stoner, so I just kept my distance and went around him. After a moment he started following me so I stopped to confront him."_ She stopped and wiped her nose with her sleeve, new tears dripping. "_It was s-so scary. I looked up at him to tell him off, but I just started running when I saw his face! He had no nose! Or a jaw! Both were just gone and what face he did have was all black. His eyes g-glowed red. My God, I was so scared!"_

The screen skipped back to the anchorman, his face smiling impudently, chuckling at the girl's dismay. "_Apparently some people need to stop watching so many horror films, am I right? Next we have Johanna with the weathe-_" John turned the television off with his remote. He marched to the rack next to his door and hoisted his overcoat on, opening the door quickly.

"Sir, where are you going?"

Detective Inspector John Hawthorne stopped at the voice. "I'm going out, Earl. Important business." He replied in his tired voice. The spaniard walked out of a room adjoined to Hawthorne's office, which the detective had lent to the man due to his loss on North Elm. "Is this about our case?"

"No, Edward, you're not coming with me. It's too dangerous as it is. You didn't see what I saw in that graveyard. I don't need civilian casualties at my side should it come to that." His reply gruff, John stuck a hat on his head, a black bowler.

Edward's surprised expression only lasted for a mere moment, instead deigning to giggle to himself. "I wouldn't dream of going against a professional's word, but you might want to take this." The spanish man reached a hand into his jacket and removed a small black pistol.

John's eyes widened. "Where did you get this?"

Edward smiled warmly in response, as if pleased with the way events were unfolding. He was glad this case was almost over. He was about to get justice for what he lost in North Elm. "I have a permit. I always have a gun on me just in case I need it. Though for now, I think you are in greater need."

John was stunned for a moment, but smiled his own tired smile in response. Slowly, he pushed Edward Earl's gun away from towards the man's chest. "I think you should keep it on you here. I do have my own." Hawthorne spun on his heel and nearly jumped down the steps to the sidewalk where his car, a black Bentley, was parked. "When I return, whoever caused you this pain will be in the hands of the law."

Edward did not respond, instead merely waving to Hawthorne. A goodbye wave. John hopped into his car and drove away, leaving Edward alone in his doorway. The Spaniard looked to the ground and shook his head, whispering to himself, "Goodbye, my friend."

* * *

Alucard stood between Seras and Henry, standing tall before the sight of their new mission. Stonehenge was one of the oldest monuments in the world. It was a pity there was no telling what would be left after tonight. Schrodinger was no doubt watching from far away, not wanting to miss a moment of the action that was promised to ensue shortly. The elder vampire grinned. Tonight was going to be fun. He could feel it with every part of his long-dead body.

* * *

**First off! Review Responses!**

***Sigh* From here on, I don't even care. The next chapter is the finale. This story is ending, and the next arc begins. While a continuation, I'll allow myself to be content with how this story turned out, and pray for more reception in the next.**

**-End Responses-**

**And so, prepare thyself! The final act ensues, and it's sure to be as grand as it deserves! **

**NOTE: You no doubt noticed the change in username from The Eccentric DrVillain to Marquis Anarchy. This change was necessary for a multitude of reasons, mostly the fact that I felt like it. My friend, a certain DrZombie, has finally passed me on from being an internet nub to a person that has to be led by the nose a little less, so such similar names are no longer necessary. Thus, my new identity. Good, no? **

**And with that, I hope to see you all the the finale of Music of the Night!**

**My fans, my readers, my dear, dear friends!**

**Adieu!**

**NOTE: I was going to separate chapters and make them all shorter, but after trying... My parts are too long, with too few breaks to accomplish what I was attempting. Nay, I'll leave it as is. FALSE ALARM, YOU ONE PERSON THAT SAW THAT.**


	12. The Bloody End

Blake kneeled in the center of the gigantic stone monument, hands pressing against the ground, eyes closed. His mouth curled down in a frustrated frown. It was not enough. He drew a large breath and counted to three before releasing it, blowing out through his mouth slowly. The Hellsing dogs would be upon him any minute. He had already raised a few ghouls for protection in case they showed up, but raising those few before raising an ocean of them was just assuring that they would show up.

It did not matter. Even if they did make an appearance, all he needed to do was wake the dead and they would be forced into a corner.

'_I need to concentrate… that's all I'm missing...'_ he thought to himself. He should be able to do it. He _was_ able to do it. he just needed to focus. Even for him, raising millions of ghouls at one time over such a large area of land, the entirety of England, was a tasking job. "Argh!" he shouted in anguish. His concentration lost from frustration. He breathed slowly again. He just needed to calm down.

Blake's head cocked upward at the sound of a car door closing in the distance. It was dark, but he could only just make out the forms of three people standing beside an oversized military jeep. A flash of lightning confirmed his suspicions. A tall red man, a blonde woman, and a scrawny teenager. Hah! They brought the boy! Well if things went awry he at least had a scapegoat. Thunder boomed from the lightning strike from moments before. It would be a downpour within the hour most likely.

The scientist grimaced. Putting his left hand, his rotted, black, macabre achievement, to the ground. A spark like miniscule lightning bolts shivered through the ground at his will, moments later giving birth to a new corpse. That should be enough to hold them at least away from him for a few minutes. At any rate, now that they were there he needed a getaway… he could not even concentrate on his own with only the ghoul's groanings to give him company; an insane vampire shooting at his head would not help matters. It was his plan to raise the dead before they arrived, but evidently it was not his time. Probably raising those ghouls beforehand lured them. Oh well. A gamble lost.

He watched then walk towards him for a moment, stony faced and expressionless. Standing to his full height, he pointed towards them with his dead arm. They seemed to be taking their time in reaching him. They would pay for underestimating him. After a few seconds ghouls crawled their way out of the ground. It was grotesque, but Blake knew he would save them still.

Taking one last deep breath, Blake put on a pompous face. He could not fail now. There was no reason to be scared. "So you finally decided to show up, eh?" he called vociferously.

The small group, Alucard, Seras, and the boy, approached him slightly faster after his call. Blake almost frowned, but stopped himself. The girl, Seras, stopped for a moment, staring at the ground, no doubt hiding an enraged face. That girl was easily provoked. Or maybe she just did not like him? It didn't really matter.

Alucard dashed forward a few steps and grabbed his infernal silver gun from his coat, quickly shooting off the heads of the ghouls Blake had raised moments before. Did that bastard not realize what he was doing?! Blake could not heal those whose muscles were not in an alignment he could reshape; headless happened to be one such shape. The demon was condemning those that Blake Casimir intended to save! The audacity!

The boy had begun to run towards him, but he was slow for even a vampire. He was no trouble for a moment.

Seras Victoria began moving again, jumping into the air, wings of shadow released from her body. She flew at speeds beyond comprehension towards Blake, taking out ghouls by the dozens as she flew. Not a moment later she stood directly in front of him!

"You're under arrest by the authority of the Hellsing Organization." the girl spoke quickly, muttering her words quietly. Before Blake could blink, she had him in a hold, hands behind his back, almost breaking.

"Yes, yes, yes, I have to come quietly, I know." As if Blake would allow himself to be beaten that easily. "But what if I choose not to for a third time?"

Twelve ghouls simultaneously tackled Seras Victoria's back, pushing even a vampire of her stature to the ground. She turned on her side and punched the face of one in, its body flying a few yards away before finally landing with a thud on the ground, sliding a few feet and leaving a bloody trail in its wake. She continued punching and clawing at her undead assailants, but Blake merely made more find their way to her.

Blake stole a few steps backward to further the distance between himself and the vampire, who would now not hesitate to kill him since he had attacked her, before he was assailed again. Fearing the worst, Blake's frenzied eyes scanned for Alucard. Where was he?! No, Blake was safe for now. Alucard was still making sport of the ghouls outside the monument. Then who was it behind him?

"You're not going to control me this time. You caught me off guard. That's the only reason you were able to before." Blake smiled. The boy thought he could cause trouble.

Blake fought against the boy's hold, but it seemed even him, the weakest of weak vampires, was still a match for a mortal man. Blake's smile turned to a grimace when he looked at Seras, who was finishing off his horde of ghouls. He needed to escape quickly. "I beg to differ." Blake grunted loudly and focused his mind on controlling the boy behind him. He had done it once, he could do it again!

Not surprisingly, Blake was soon able to move his limbs as he pleased. He walked away a few steps and faced his new puppet. "So your friends didn't kill you last time, eh? Pity. Oh well, I suppose you'll make for good cannon fodder today!" The scientist raised his chin in a great laugh before pointing at Seras Victoria, who had just killed the last of the ghouls.

Alucard was still in the field, taking his time with the ghouls.

"Now, did it really have to come to this?" Blake smiled, edging his sword, the child vampire, closer to the blonde girl. "I thought we'd get along the first time I met you."

Seras took a step back. She had apparently learned from her last experience that Blake was no one to be messed with. She was afraid of him! Hah! Shaking her head, as if ridding it of nasty thoughts, she spoke to him. "You tried to kill us!"

Blake waved his hand passively. If Alucard was not rushing, there was no need for him to either. "You're vampires. I knew a few low-powered ghouls would be no match for you then! By the way, what you did there gave me wonderful insight to my limits." Blake pointed at the ground a few feet away, willing a ghoul to come to his aid. "And how I can break them."

"You're insane."

"I'm God! Can you not see that I'm trying to better humanity?! I'll give you one last chance. Join me, or I'll make sure you die. _Tonight_!"

Seras grinned and giggled at him, making sure to show her fangs. "By setting neighborhoods on fire and raising flesh-eating monsters. I think I'll stay with my side."

Blake cringed, but did not back down. He pointed his blackened, rotten arm at her before draping it across his chest. "Do you see this? I can heal."

"It looks like you can only half do what you claim."

The scientist closed his eyes and took a deep breath once more. There was no reason with some people. "I'm perfecting it. I'm working to better humanity,but every time you lot show your face I'm set behind. You ruin my research. I find myself more focused on avoiding you than perfecting my arts!"

"Arts? Don't make me laugh! You can't win, Blake. Just give it up. Release Henry."

Blake looked over at his puppet, which stood at the ready, fangs and claws bared. "Mmm, no, I think I'd rather fight. But you do what you like! Henry, you said he was named? Yes! Henry!" Blake glared at his adversary while taking a few more steps back. Time was of the essence, and it was only a short matter of the essence before Alucard lost interest in his playthings and went for Blake. He needed to stall until he could safely get away. "Destroy her, Henry."

The scrawny boy took a step forward. Then another. His face locked in a grimace, Henry was sweating bullets. Eyes pained, and veins popping.

A third step. A fourth.

The movement was slow. Too slow. Blake grimaced himself. "Go, boy!" he shouted at Henry. He continued to put all his will into forcing Henry to move. Henry's steps moved faster. Now moving at a brisk walk, Blake was pleased with his control.

Seras' face went blank for a moment without any expression at all. Her eyes were wide, on the edge of fear. She knew how powerful Henry had been before, no doubt she was shaking in her boots now. Blake almost smiled at the thought of her cowering, but his grimace from concentration was stuck. He could barely move an eyelid. At length, her face finally changed into a smirk.

What?!

Henry began to run at her, arms outstretched, and nails at the ready. He swiped with ease at Seras' side, but she easily dodged. Her face continued in the triumphant smirk she wore, even as she had to exert herself to dodge Henry's attacks. "What are you smiling at, girl?!" Blake yelled, spit flying from his mouth.

Henry jumped into the air, falling head first towards Seras, but she easily side stepped and jumped into the air herself, wings unfolded into their dark angelic reach. Henry turned from the ground and faced her, frowning in irritation. He had completely stopped fighting Blake's control. The weakling.

Seras looked at Blake from the air and her smirk grew even larger. "If you would turn around you'd see." she taunted. What was she getting at. Surely not-

Blake stiffened. As he was instructed, he turned around to meet his fate. Slowly, the scientist spun on his heels, coming face to chest with the now unoccupied form of Alucard.

The jolly red giant chuckled to himself. "Didn't you see how well this worked for you last time?" He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, as if scolding a child. "It seems some children never learn."

This was the end. Blake had lost. "NO!" The brown haired scientist shouted at the top of his lungs. "I'VE COME TOO FAR! TO FAIL! NOW!" His concentration lost, Henry quit attacking Seras. The female vampire returned to the ground behind him, catching the boy as he lost consciousness.

Blake's eyes widened in anger. It couldn't be! "You… damned… MONSTERS!" He pulled at his hair madly, knocking his glasses off his face. Another step back. A third. Blake turned quickly and ran away, pushing in between Seras and Henry. The two vampires made no move to stop him.

Alucard was already on it.

The vampire seemed to simply materialize directly in front of Blake. There was no movement. Blake stopped in his tracks and slowly lifted his face towards Alucard's smiling head. The vampire was, as always, dressed in his blood red clothes. Though, considering how many ghouls he'd killed it was probably only real blood he could see now. Blake's lip quivered in fear. There was no way out.

Alucard took off his sunglasses, hands moving slowly, without an ounce of worry. Depositing them in his pocket, his smile only widened. "And running from the adults. Coward." Alucard swished his hand in one short movement, hitting Blake square in the chest. Even as light as it was, Blake was pushed back a few yards and feel on his back. Alucard merely laughed and strolled back to him. The scientist looked around him to see the girl still holding the weakling in her arms. He seemed to be regaining consciousness.

Alucard's smile faded into a glare as he stood threateningly over him. Blake backed up in a backwards crawl until his back hit a large stone, one of the pillars that made up the landmark. "To think a mere mortal man could put me through so much trouble." Alucard's smile returned, his hands brought up to his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug, shaking his head again.

Blake hurriedly put his dead arm to the ground, raising one ghoul. '_This is my last chance!_' An arm rose out of the ground, bringing behind it the full body of a rotting man.

Just as fast as it had risen, Alucard punched its head off its shoulders.

"I would ask if you had anything to say for yourself, but as it happens… I really don't care."

"I-I…" Blake whimpered in response.

Alucard smiled at his fumbling and brought his face level with Blake's. "How much do you think I'm going to enjoy this?"

Blake just sat there, frozen. Alucard made no movements, as if he was really waiting for an answer.

Well fine then.

Blake would supply one. In defiance! There had to be one last way out, no matter how far fetched.

"Nothing at all? Pitiful. You're weaker than the boy." Alucard slapped Blake in the face, but seeing as his head didn't come clean off, he must still be playing with his food.

Blake did not have to bring a hand to his face to know it was bleeding profusely. As much as it hurt, he smiled in return to Alucard's taunts. "And yet I was still able to control him with ease. It makes one wonder just how powerful your kind really are."

Alucard laughed heartily, a deep bellow of malicious teasing. "Surprising how the weak could crush your head like a sparrow's egg, hmm?"

"Well of course you would. It seems I couldn't even control you before. Just how powerful are you, Alucard?" Blake chuckled self deprecatingly.

Alucard smiled and opened his mouth to respond, but no noise ever came. The elder vampire's face merely froze in place, save for his eyes. They stared at Blake nervously. Blake stood in front of the frozen vampire and dusted off his coat. "Oh, I see. Merely that powerful." Blake took a few more steps back, smiling all the way. "But you seem to forget, I've grown quite a bit in the last few days. Enough perhaps, to do this?"

And Alucard, for the first time in hundreds of years, began to scream in pain and terror.

* * *

John could see the monument just a short distance away. He swerved off the road and onto the grass, making a beeline for the great show that he could see even from there. Even from that far away in the dark, he could see the enormous amounts of blood on the pillars of Stonehenge. He heavied his foot on the gas pedal, urging the car to go as fast as possible.

Approaching even closer, he could make out the forms of four people; the blonde and the boy together on the ground, she cradling he. The man in the suit stood wiping his hands over himself, as if dusting himself off.

But most odd was the man in red, screaming bloody murder loud enough for Hawthorne to hear a mile away.

The detective promptly stopped his car, slamming the brake pedal. He didn't even bother to put it in park before jumping out, gun in his hands. The man with the glasses didn't even seem to notice him, that one's attention fully on the red man screaming. John stopped walking, instead staring at the red clothed giant. He squinted to make sure, but the man seemed fuzzy, almost as if John were seeing double. But it was only him, as if the red man were splitting into two separate men. The detective had the gut feeling he shouldn't approach him just yet, and instead made towards the blonde and the boy. Running as fast as he could, and eyes darting everywhere, John soon made it to the two on the ground.

"You two!" he called when he was within range. "Explain to me exactly what is going on here! In the name of the law!" Gun pointed straight at the strange couple, he slowed his pace and briskly walked towards them.

The blonde girl was the only one to turn. The boy seemed in a daze, as if he had just woken up. He called again. "Stay sitting! Tell me what is going on!"

Her face was stricken in fear. Hmph. Must not have thought she was going to get caught. Or perhaps it was the spectacle on the other side of the monument happening to her partner in crime. "Answer me, girl!" He called again, stopping directly beside him.

She was hesitant to answer, but finally began to stand. "Get back to the ground! I said not to stand!" Hawthorne barked angrily. She disregarded what he was saying and stood anyway. Fine. If she was going to fight, so be it. Good to rid the world of evils such as herself and her murderer friends. Without an ounce of regret, he pulled the trigger, gun aimed at her chest.

The bullet made clean through her, leaving a hole all the way through, but she girl seemed unfazed. John was confused for a moment, staring at the apparently unhurt girl. His surprise only grew greater when the bullet wound healed instantly!

Color drained from the detective's face. He looked at the girl's eyes with fear. "Wh-what are you?"

The blonde scowled angrily, but made no move towards him. Neither did she answer his question. She simply shouted "Get out of here!" before her scowl was replaced by a look of pure fear.

And that was the last thing John Hawthorne, Private Investigator, ever saw.

* * *

Seras stood terrified as the man in front of her fell to the ground, and the man responsible for his murder removed his arm from his stomach. "Master!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Nothing could possibly be this bad. Seras looked to her side where Henry was just now sitting up before pouncing at the speed of light, grabbing the boy and extending her wings to fly into the air.

Blake called from the ground. "I am God, you filthy blasphemers! You thought you could beat me with your cheap powers, but mortal man is stronger than the likes of you! And soon, we shall be immortal man! There is nothing you can do to stop me! I will become the savior of mankind! And you? Your kind will pay for messing with my work! I am a vengeful God, and you will be the first to experience it!" He laughed for good measure and flicked his dead, rotted arm upward.

Seras looked back down at her new opponent; Alucard himself. It was an impossible situation. Nothing could control Alucard! But Blake… Blake had done it. Alucard stared above himself at Seras, smirking his smile he saved especially for his enemies. It actually hurt.

Henry started to squirm in her arms, but a quick squeeze form her put an end to it. He seemed to understand not to move at this height.

Seras called at Alucard in a desperate bid. "Get a hold of yourself! We're your friends!" but Alucard seemed not to listen. Likely his mind was overrun with merry thoughts of the many ways to kill them in moments. Or more likely he'd do it the Alucard way and play with his food first.

Alucard lifted himself in the air. He did not even require wings to levitate, he simply floated there as if on a string. Blake's marionette.

Seras took the red flag and darted around through the air. She couldn't just run away at a time like this, but she could run around all she wanted. Perhaps she could find a way to at least break Blake's control over him.

The idea came in an instant.

She flew around randomly, Alucard not far behind. The elder vampire was nowhere near unable to keep up with her, but if she kept flying he shouldn't be able to catch up.

Alucard materialized right in front of her the moment that thought came into her mind. He brought his arm back to stab her through the stomach, but Seras stopped in her tracks and backpedalled a small ways before swiftly flying to the side. Alucard punched through nothing but air, but quickly recovered, materializing right in front of her again.

This time Seras lost no time in ramming her body into him. He was knocked back a small way, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Seras was able to take the opportunity to steer herself closer to the maniac on the ground.

Until she was slammed through the air away from her destination.

Alucard was right at her side, blocking all thoughts of escape in any direction. Seras grimaced and punched her own shadow arm into him like a blade. It cut off his arm, which fell to the ground, but a new one quickly grew back in its place. Alucard wasted no time in a counter attack, swiping at her, but she dodged to the side, less than an inch of a miss.

"Give it up, girl! You know you're no match for your forefather!" Blake called from the ground. His taunting was putting her at about the end of her wits.

Alucard disappeared from in front of her, but he wasn't out of sight long, kicking her in the back and forcing her forward. With an unobstructed path, Seras again flew at top speed towards Blake Casimir.

This time she managed to reach him without trouble, picking up the nuisance into the air with her, flying about with Alucard in quick pursuit.

"Wh-you witch! Put me down this instant!"

Seras ignored him, but smiled to herself. Blake wouldn't allow himself to be attacked, so he was the perfect shield.

He squirmed in her arms as she flew, but her vampiric strength kept her from letting go. Blake cursed, but held no hope of getting free.

Alucard predictably appeared before Seras again, but she held the terrified Blake in front of her. "No! Stop!" he called pathetically. Alucard listened, but held his arm at the ready. Blake took his eyes off the red-clad vampire for a moment to look at Seras in the eye. "I-I surrender. I'll release him and go quietly if you put me down."

Seras glared at him, but doubted his claim. He'd already feigned surrender twice that night. She looked at Alucard, and descended to the ground. She did not, however put down Blake. She instead released Henry, who stood of his own accord and nodded at her. Seras yet again rose into the air, bringing Blake with her. "What are you doing? Put me down too!"

When she got to a respectable height, Seras looked at the pathetic man in her arms and answered. "Alright."

She let go of her grip, and watched humorously as the necromancer fell to the ground. He was in the air for a full second before smacking into it feet first, breaking his legs instantly.

"NGAAAAAH!" he screamed at the top of his lungs! His legs were a mess! Of course, Seras thought, he had no trouble healing his arm. There was no way to ensure safety without killing him for good.

Coming back to her mind, she scanned the nearby air for Alucard, and was surprised to find he was floating right where they'd left him, clutching his head and screaming along with Blake. His form was fuzzy, as if he were phasing out. Seras watched him for a minute, screaming like a mad man before her. He went even more out of focus, going double as if there were two of them.

And then there were.

Before her, Seras could hardly believe her eyes, were two Alucards, staring at each other. They wore the same expression. Hatred at the person they were looking at.

* * *

Henry's eyes darted between three different scenes. The evil cripple before him screaming in pain on the ground, a terror stricken blonde vampire above him, and two Alucards staring face to face, both with a look of murderous intent in their eyes.

How… how was this happening?

Rain began to fall in hard drops. The bottom had finally let out of the clouds. In a matter of seconds it became hard to see the three figures in the sky, only the man beside him visible.

"This is… this is impossible…" he muttered to himself.

"On the contrary, this is completely possible, and quite entertaining!" a thick German accent said beside him. Surprised, Henry moved his gaze towards the cat-eared boy now standing at his right. Schrodinger laughed to himself, staring into the sky smiling.

"When did you get here?" Henry asked, looking between Schrodinger and Blake. Blake was screaming still and showed no signs of stopping.

"Don't you remember? I'm everywhere and nowhere. I've been here the whole time. But that's not what you asked. How is this possible, you said." he smiled gleefully at Henry, no doubt delighted that he had a chance to share some knowledge.

"These are two sides of Alucard. He's everywhere and nowhere too, but it seems now he's in a lot more everywheres than before."

"What are you going on about?"

"Blake is still controlling him, but Blake's out for the count. These two Alucards have two different goals. One is still following Blake's orders, but the other is the true Alucard, fighting to stop Blake. Do you understand?" Schrodinger explained as if it were the most simple thing in the world.

Henry looked at him befuddled. "I'm just going to take your word for it."

He looked back to the scene above him, what little he could see at least.

* * *

Alucard smiled gleefully at his new opponent. "Well, it's been quite a while since I've had an enemy as strong as myself. This will be fun, won't it?"

The red clad slave stared back wordlessly.

"Not much for conversation, that's fine." Alucard swiftly brought his arm around, slicing into the opposing vampire. Unsurprisingly, it easily dodged his attack and delivered its own counter.

Alucard not only dodged, but flew a short ways away. "This is no fun. We're just going to keep dodging? How terribly boring. Shall we make things more interesting?" he called the taunt as he brought out his two twin guns. He threw his head back in a hearty laugh, hat falling off his head as he did so. He shot his guns at the red nuisance in quick succession, not a moment going by without a bullet whizzing out of the barrel.

The Slave dodged the bullets with ease, coming underneath Alucard to attack from below with his arms. "Tsk tsk, giving me a free shot? Horribly unlike me." Alucard kicked his legs below him, coming very close to kicking the other him in the face.

It whizzed by his foot, coming at his face with its arm. Alucard went under far enough to avoid its legs and came up again behind it. "So many openings. Never mind. This isn't fun at all."

* * *

Seras watched as the two Alucard's fought. It was a terrific sight, watching the most powerful vampire in the world fight himself, but it was also terrifying. If the wrong one won the battle, it was game over from there.

The girl flew to the Alucards and chose one to slash at. She couldn't tell the difference between the two at all, she just swung and hoped to end the fight. There was no way she would be able to defeat Alucard, but if the other Alucard helped her, they might have a chance to overpower the opponent.

Holding this in her mind, she continued to slash and miss in the air. The Alucards seemed only interested in dodging her. They didn't even try to hit her, instead aiming for the other Alucard. It was almost as if she didn't exist in the fight at all.

* * *

The smell of blood was intoxicating. Schrodinger had left again, no doubt somewhere getting a better view of the battle above. Henry was alone with the crippled Blake beside him. The man had quit screaming, instead taking more of a liking to whimpering quietly as events unfolded.

The necromancer's legs were oozing with blood. The impact had severely injured them.

Bleeding.

Just him and Henry.

All alone.

Seras and Alucard were there, but they were busy far above. Surely they wouldn't care if he were to…

No, they would probably praise him. If Blake died, then one Alucard would disappear, and it would all be over.

Yes.

That was the right choice!

Succumb to the bloodlust.

Succumb…

Blood…

Henry's eyes glazed over, his thinking gone, replaced with only an animalistic thirst.

* * *

Seras continued her assault on the Alucards. One in front of her, and one behind, she whipped her shadow arm behind her and smacked the one there.

But there was no impact.

She took a worried glance behind her, but saw nothing.

In front of her was one Alucard, who didn't look surprised in the slightest.

Only one Alucard.

Seras left her fight and descended quickly to the ground. There she found exactly what she expected. Henry holding Blake Casimir in his mouth.

It was over.

* * *

The sun was shining brightly the next day. A black car drove on the grass, stopped next to a corpse. There were many corpses on the site of Stonehenge that day, but this one was special. This was the body of Private Investigator, John Hawthorne. Edward Earl exited the car and examined the body, smiling at his luck. He picked a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. It only took one ring before it was answered.

"Hellsing failed once again. More civilian casualties. I'm afraid we'll have to step in, hmm?" he spoke into the receiver. In return all he heard was a pleased chuckle.

"Perfect. Please report back to headquarters immediately."

**END OF ARC 1**

* * *

**And after a five month hiatus, here it is! The finale of Arc 1 of this story! Now, I posted an apology for my hiatus earlier, and for reference sake I'm going to copy a few things to here;**

**I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY FOR MY UNCALLED FOR HIATUS! RIGHT NEXT TO THE CLIMAX TOO! I'M ASHAMED OF MYSELF! THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN AGAIN, I SWEAT ON THE GREAT NAME OF KING ALABAST!**

**Personally, I blame anime, Spice &amp; Wolf light novels, 4-H, and Undertale. There, that's why I didn't write. OH, and Markiplier. He's a nasty one, stealing my attention against my will.**

**In other news, I've been great. I've almost finished all of the S&amp;W Light Novels, with the last two being translated in December and April respectively (I can barely contain my excitement!), and I discovered the beautiful game that is Undertale! Got some sheet music for most of the game, so expect that to be on Youtube soon (I don't like advertising my channel here, and there's not much on it, but just private message me in you're interested. I have a few videos I could put on there if I so felt like that have previously only been on Facebook, me playing piano exclusively, of course.)**

**Just thought I'd leave this here and give my excuses, even though there is no excuse for a hiatus this long at a time like that.**

**Anywho, I'm back, and excited to be back! The next arc will surely be great! What is Edward Earl hiding from us exactly?! What's going on?! I'm not going to tell you. Why would I say it here before I've even written the next arc yet? Silly readers.**

**This is nowhere near the end, I promise. There are three more arcs planned, and I'm excited to write! **

**Leave a review, give your praise on my excellent writing (Even though I actually don't think I did well on the end of this chapter, I might edit it later when I have some more energy), confess your love to me (Don't hold back! I know you want to .3.), even write a flame if you'd like.**

**The next arc is now available, and the first chapter posted, so please, if you enjoyed this story please feel free to check out what I have going over there in arc 2, titled "We Are Legion!"**

**I will see you all in the next arc! Adieu!**

**NOTE: I just read over what I'd written already to refresh my memory. There are many things that my mind skipped over, forgetting to place a word, a place where my computer auto-corrected the word into something wrong, etc etc etc. Most of the problems I spotted were in chapter 8, actually, I miss spoke quite a few times in the Hawthorne sequence... Anyway, I might go back over those later. Expect edits, but no major story line changes.**

**NOTE II: WE HAVE REACHED THE MILESTONE! AS OF RIGHT NOW THIS STORY HAS HAD EXACTLY 2,500 VIEWS! Thank you guys so much for giving me this honor, I love you all.**


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